What The Future Brings
by Ozzy
Summary: Complete Post NFA ABS triangle. Unknown forces are disturbing to order of the world in unseen ways, forces of a type that are so familiar they can be hard to recognise. Buffy tries to control Illyria, all the while balancing the competing vampires' love.
1. What The Future Brings

Disclaimer: I don't own any non-orginal people, places or concepts herein, and am making no profit from its publication.

Rating: So far, pretty tame, but I'll rate it T for now. May change to M later. We'll see how much sex and violence I can fit it tastefully.

Spoilers: All of them. Post Chosen, Post Not Fade Away, including intersecting/borrowed plot (very minor) from the non-cannon Angel comics "The Curse" and "Illyria: Spotlight," which are Post and Pre NFA respectivly.

Summary: Post-NFA/Chosen fic. When Buffy and the scoobies pay a visit to LA after the events of NFA, they decide to stay, realising they haven't exactly got anywhere else to be. They try to get on with their lives, but there are forces working in the background that threaten peace on earth, forces of a type that are so familiar they can be hard to recognise. Going to be a long fic.

Pairing(s): Now that would be telling, wouldn't it? Lets just put it this way, neither Angel nor Spike will be bashed in any way. The two of them are my favourite characters, and I'd never be unfair to one of them (without being equally mean to the other, that is).

Notes: I'm trying to keep the start as cliché-free as possible, but I let one or two slip in. Bare with me, they'll be over soon. Also, after debating wheather to put this in Buffy or Angel, I decided on Buffy. It's set in LA, but most of the characters are Buffy characters (Buffy, Spike, Willow, Dawn, Xander, Giles), and I don't think location is the most important factor ("A rose by any other name would smell just as sweet"). That being said, Angel, Illyria and to a lesser extent, Gunn will feature. In short, **it's a Buffy cross-over with Angel.**

* * *

Angel swallowed the blood from his mug as he sat back in his chair, lowering it from his lips and placing it on the table in front of him. Just outside his office, in the lobby of the Hyperion Hotel, he could hear his, what? Co-workers? Associates? Friends? Discussing their present situation. He sighed as he reflected over the past while, since the showdown in the alleyway. Himself, Spike, Illyria and Gunn, alone against an army of darkness. Had he expected to live? No. None of them had. Except, ironically, Wesley. Fate had a twisted sense of humour. Had he expected what had happened? Honestly, he sooner expected Buffy and an army of slayers to show up and kick some demon ass. 

But no Buffy. No army of young girls. No superpower Willow. At least, not then. Some days after the battle, the scoobie gang had shown up on his doorstep, wondering what the hell happened. At the moment, they were in the hotel for a prolonged visit; at least until they could solve the mystery of what did happen. Angel still remembered it clearly.

The hordes were a mere ten seconds' sprint away, when there was a huge mystical explosion. It didn't damage any buildings, nor did it leave a hole in the ground. It appeared as a blue ripple in space-time, similar to a stone causing ripples in water. It spread out, its blobular look accompanied by bubbling sound. It caused the forces of darkness to simply vanish, as though going back into a portal.

Then the blue waves cracked like glass and shattered into nothingness. The three of them, Angel, Spike and Gunn, discerned no difference, so to speak, but Illyria insisted something was different. What it was? Well, she could not be more specific. She was completely baffled. It was something she had grown used to while living among mortals, and it was something she hid well, never letting on that she was totally lost. But Angel knew…

That had been ten days ago. Now, Angel sat in his office, waiting for the sun to go down. He was going to get Gunn from hospital. The man had been seriously wounded, but after over a week in recovery, the doctors said he was well enough to leave, provided he wasn't alone, so he had visited Gunn and arranged to meet him today after sunset. Angel decided to check with the gang to see how the research was going.

"Find anything yet?" he asked as he strode into the lobby, not directing the question at any one person. Willow, Giles, Xander and Dawn had set up a mini library in the lobby, moving the circular seater and replacing it with several tables, each of which was strewn with tomes of knowledge. The four of them were currently reading, re-reading, cross-referencing, translating, and all kinds of other stuff involving lots of yawning. After a week of finding nothing, morale was low.

Willow looked up, shaking her head. "Sorry Angel. We're still no closer to finding out what the mojo was." She closed the book she had open. "I mean, I don't even know where to start, and our resources are quite limited."

"Yeah, plus the whole 'no effect' factor isn't helping," said Dawn. "Most of these books have their spells arranged by what their effects are. So far all we have to go on is Illyria's oh-so-vague description. Wow. A spell that changes something! Rare!" Angel wondered when she had learned to be so sarcastic. He had no doubt it was from Xander she picked up the skill. He still was amazed that Dawn, who he could remember always being there, wasn't there. Or hadn't been there, to be more precise. When Wesley had smashed the memory window, all the memories of life without Dawn had come rushing back. After several hours of thinking he had managed to work out what was real and what wasn't.

He had to admit, since he'd remembered, his feeling towards Dawn had diminished. Once Buffy's kid sister, he now saw her as an impostor. Of course, he'd never, EVER, tell anyone he felt like that. If Dawn found out…well she was a human now, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt a young girls feelings.

Angel cast a look at Giles at Illyria's mention. He hadn't forgotten what Giles had done. In Fred's time of need, he ignored Angel pleas for help. There was nothing Willow could have done, being on a different plane at the time, and Angel knew it now, but it was the sheer lack of empathy that got to him. He and Giles hadn't discussed the matter, and it appeared that Giles hadn't told Willow, or presumably anyone else, so Angel decided to drop the matter for the time being. Giles shifted uneasily under Angels stare, but said nothing.

"Speaking of Illyria-" Angel began, before being cut off by Dawn.

"She's out with Buffy. Said she wanted to see her slaying." This statement was followed by a long silence, which Angel broke by muttering about the sun setting and going to see Gunn. Buffy's name still got his gut in a twist. Seeing her again had been wonderful, but he was tortured having her sleeping in the same building as him. She was so close, yet he could hardly bring himself to see her. He tried to minimise the contact he had with her. It made it easier. Shaking his head privately to himself, he stalked out of the hotel, making for the street.

* * *

Gunn was standing next to his bed in the ward, his home since the alley battle, and had just finished buttoning up his shirt when he saw Angel striding towards him with a smile on his face; a rare sight indeed. Gunn was just glad Angel hadn't come a moment sooner, when he was wearing nothing but a hospital gown. That would have lost him points on the manliness scale. Angel stopped just in front of Gunn and looked him up and down. 

"Gunn. It's good to see you standing. You had me worried for a while." Gunn smiled and grabbed Angel's hand in a secret handshake involving finger clicking and fist-meeting, which Angel knew well, as he demonstrated by flawlessly doing his own half in perfect tandem to Gunns'.

"You too fang boy. I wasn't too sure you'd be up for that fight!" he joked. Angel chuckled at Gunn's mannerism. "But seriously…I didn't even expect to make it into that alley, let alone out. It really put things in perspective. If I had died there, that would have been it. But now…"

Angel looked at Gunn earnestly. "Are you thinking of retiring? Because god knows, you've earned it. I'll understand if you-" The look on Gunns face made Angel break off his sentence. Gunn was almost laughing at Angel. "-Don't want to retire," Angel finished conversationally.

"Hell no! I'm gonna keep on doing the good fight. Jus'…not the one I used to do." Angel looked at him with a slightly lost look, half knowing what he was about to say, half ignorant. "When I was working as a lawyer, consulting with "sources" and seeing things on paper, I realised there are so many bad people out there walking free, destroying lives, all because they can work the system. They have people to get them off the hook, but in doing so ruin the people who don't."

"And you're going to fight them in court," Angel concluded. Gunn nodded in the affirmative. "That's a good call." Gunn smiled, happy with Angel's approval, and started moving towards the exit, beckoning Angel to follow.

"Damn straight Angel my man. But if you need some back up-"

"-I'll be sure to call." Yeah, but….

"Cool. Your car in the parking lot?" Gunn asked, already headed that way, needing no answer. Abruptly, he stopped, almost causing Angel to bump into him. "Is it the viper?" Angel nodded, hands in pockets. "Can I drive?" He asked, resuming his stride, leaving Angel standing in the corridor, looking like his favourite toy was about to be smashed.

* * *

"So, this is what you do?" Two figures strode side by side. 

Buffy nodded without much thought. "Yep. Trudge the lonely streets at night. Seek out evil. Pretty much the plan." Illyria looked back from Buffy to the street in front of her. They were in a part of midtown LA, the streets relatively deserted. The occasional car drove past them, usually at over the speed limit. Traffic lights changed colours in the distance at several locations.

"And you are satisfied with this existence?" Illyria queried. For a second, Buffy mistook the question as one of attack. She was frequently asked was she happy with being the slayer. It got on her nerves, especially as some of the askers knew the answer, and were just trying to get her to admit something. But she sensed that Illyria was not trying to antagonise her.

"I guess it's ok. I've gotten used to it. Plus, my future is brighter now that the other slayers are around. Not everything falls to me. Anymore." Illyria thought on it some more.

"And are they satisfied? Having this responsibility thrust upon them, unable to change it even if they desired change?" Buffy lowered her head. Since casting the spell empowering all potentials, she had had a lot of time to think about the implications. At the time, she hadn't thought twice about it. It was war, soldiers were needed. But after…many of the potentials had quit, refused to slay. A solid majority, in fact. And many new potentials around the world either refused to help, or simply refused to believe.

"No. By and large, no. It's ironic really. I've been the slayer the longest, I have the most reason to dislike it, but it actually doesn't bother me much anymore. No vampire is a match for me, and if something big comes up, I just assemble an army and stab stuff till the threat is gone. Giles and the new council do most of the work these days; it seems I've gained such a reputation that nothing evil wants to be in the same city as me. I'm back in college, in Rome of all places, and when I moved in, the vamps moved out. These days Rome is waaay down the list on places of demonic activity. It's almost as though the world moved on without me, and I hardly noticed." Illyria eyed Buffy with her cold, blue gaze.

"I know the feeling," she commented absently, her attention now focused on screams and loud noises coming from around the corner. Buffy heard the noise too, and broke into a run. Illyria walked faster, keeping a just a short distance behind Buffy. As they rounded the corner, the smell of burning hydrocarbons filled their nostrils. A three-storey building was surrounded by a mob of about forty people, who were throwing rocks, bricks and Molotov cocktails at it.

Buffy approached the crowd and broke through. A blinking neon sign indicted it was a strip club. Grabbing the nearest person by the collar, a tall, large, middle-aged man with short dark hair, she demanded to know what was going on.

"This is place of evil! They-" Buffy rolled her eyes and released him. She didn't have time for scandalised religious nuts. People could be trapped in there. She ran through the front entrance, crashing though the burning doorway. Inside was hazy and filled with smoke. At first she couldn't see anybody. She shouted for anybody alive to reveal themselves. The bar was empty, all the seats too. Nobody on the walkway either. She paced deeper in, nearly being hit by a falling flaming rafter. She saw nobody, and was about to turn around and leave when she was hit over the head with a heavy blunt object. She stumbled forward and swung around, just in time for another wallop, this time across the face, with what she discerned to be a heavy wooden chair.

"You brought the crowd here!" yelled a well-dressed vampire, game face on and fangs bared. "You did this to my establishment!" Buffy stumbled to her feet and held up her hands defensively.

"Wow wow wow, hold on a sec. This is a vampire strip club?" Buffy asked incredulously, motioning all around her. "I guess this is a place of evil." The tuxedoed vampire took another swing at her with the chair, missing her when she ducked. "And I'm guess that bottled red stuff behind the bar isn't Grenadine?" She grabbed the chair from him as he took another swing, and smashed it over him, grabbing a shard of it and quickly staking him. Sensing no more trouble, she left the way she came in, coughing as she exited into the fresh air. She stalked off before the mob could confront her to make sure she was alright. Not seeing her blue accomplice anywhere, she decided to go back to the hotel. It had been an otherwise uneventful night, and it seemed as though the humans could take care of themselves in this town. "No wonder they never sent me here. Sunnydale people really were stupid hicks…couldn't even burn down Willie's" she thought to herself.

* * *

Angel and Gunn were in Angel's viper, one of the few things he had been able to salvage from the wreckage of the Wolfram and Hart building, cruising back to the hotel, with Angel firmly in the drivers seat. They had settled into a comfortable silence after leaving the hospital, one which Angel was loathed to break, but the issue on his mind was simply too pressing for him to hold off any longer. 

"Gunn…" Angel began, but broke off, finding it difficult to form the correct words.

"Whussup?" Pausing for several long and arduous seconds, Angel spoke with far less then the firm resoluteness he had been aiming for.

"I think it would be best if…I mean I don't want you to feel like…...what I'm trying to say is-" Gunn raised an eyebrow, quite familiar with Angel's uncomfortable disposition when it came to sensitive issues.

"Whatever you're trying to say, I think I'd react better if you actually said it," Gunn said, looking expectantly at Angel, eyebrows raised. Angel sighed, frustrated at his inability to say what he wanted to, so he decided to just come out and say it, sensitivities be damned.

"I won't be asking for you help. Ever." Damn! I was too short!

"Ok. Why the hell not?" Gunn shot back. Angel glanced at him, then back to the road.

"It's too dangerous." Gunn stared at Angel for several seconds before responding.

"My ass. When are you gonna tell me the real reason?"

"That is the real reason," Angel said resolutely. Gunn folded his arms.

"Ok. Spill. I'm waiting. I think you owe me an explanation as to why you're suddenly cutting me off after all we've been through." Angel took in a deep breath and let out a long, melancholy sigh.

"That's just it Gunn. It's we. Not…you and me we. Me…and my friends we...I lost them. Every one of them." Gunn shook his head.

"Now that's jus' bullshit Angel."

"No, it's not! Doyle, Cordellia, Fred, and Wesley. They're all dead, and it's because of me. You would have died in that alley too. And I've driven Lorne away. He may even be dead for all I know. Gunn, you're my last human friend. You're…" Realisation dawned on Gunn. He nodded his head as he got what Angel was saying. "You're my only friend Gunn. All my other friends are dead."

They rode on in silence, taking the time to mourn their fallen comrades. Gunn looked at Angel, and saw how alone he felt. He believed himself responsible for all their deaths. Gunn felt wholly responsible for Fred's death, but surely that was only a fraction of how bad Angel felt. He wondered how Angel could bare it.

"You regret them dying. You think you failed them?" Angel just stared, eyes unwavering from the road. "Do they?"

"What?" Angel asked, swinging his head around to look intently at Gunn.

"Do they think you failed them?" Angel opened his mouth, trying to form words, but nothing came out. "I don't think they blame you. Doyle died to protect dozens of innocent people. You think he holds you responsible? And Cordy died, going on to a higher plane, where she's doing untold good, where she's supremely happy. Wesley died saving the world. Do you think either of them holds you responsible? Do you think that given the chance, they wouldn't sacrifice themselves again, if it meant doing good?"

"What about Fred? What did she die for?" Angel challenged. It was Gunns turn to bow his head.

"Her death was meaningless. But hers should be on my conscience, not yours. Angel, I guarantee you that every single one of them would happily die for the cause. Including me." Angel stared intently at Gunn, taking solace in his words of compassion, causing him to nearly hit an oncoming car. He swerved out of the and got back on track. "But not in a traffic accident!"

"Sorry," Angel apologised sheepishly. Gunn glared at him for a moment longer, before smiling and slapping Angel on the shoulder, telling him not to worry about it.

* * *

Angel and Gunn strode confidently into the Hyperion, where the four scoobies were busily researching. Gunn was surprised at all the changes, and the new faces, but took it all in stride. 

"Oh, Angel, you're back!" said Dawn loudly, stating the obvious. "And you brought a friend! Would this be the Charles Gunn I've heard so much about?" Angel smiled and folded his hands in front of his waist.

"Everybody, this is Charles Gunn, one of my asso…one of my friends," Angel corrected himself. Gunn smiled at Angel. It seemed as though the Angel he knew before the whole Wolfram and Hart business was slowly returning. "Gunn, this is Rupert Giles, Xander Harris and Dawn Summers," he said motioning to each of them. Gunn shook their hands, exchanging how do you dos. "And you've already under met Willow."

"Hiya Gunn!" Willow chirped. "Glad we could meet again under better circumstances. No Angelus needing a re-ensoulment this time!"

"For sure," agreed Gunn. Now that's strange, Angel noted. He was sure Giles would be uncomfortable at the mention of his alter ego, but he didn't even seem to register the name. No quickened heartbeat, no scent of anger. "So what're you all up to?" Giles fielded the question.

"We've been searching for an answer to what happened in the alley. No luck so far I'm afraid," he admitted, glancing back to his book.

"Yeah. They don't call. Don't write. The rudest army of darkness I've ever fought," quipped Xander, waving a finger at his tome.

"You didn't fight them," Dawn pointed out dryly. Xander seemed to notice his error and tossed Dawn a somewhat dirty look.

"Fought with words and books, is what I meant. I mean, last time an army of thirty thousand nasties attacked, they left ashes. These guys left nothing, except a weird spell that we don't even know what it does yet." Giles sat back in his chair and took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Putting them back on, he stood, pushing his chair out.

"I'm going to turn in. In the morning, I suggest we discontinue this course of action. It's clearly getting us nowhere."

"I second that motion!" said Xander, raising his hand.

"Same here," agreed Dawn. Looking to Giles for approval, they closed their books and got up.

"Will, you gonna finish up or what?" asked Xander expectantly. She looked up and him shook her head.

"I'll go on for a few more pages. You go to bed. I'll be up in a bit." Xander nodded, and followed Giles up the stairs to their rooms, Dawn trailing after him. Angel went into his office to prepare a mug of blood.

Gunn sat down next to Willow and opened a book. 'Group magic' it read on the inside cover. "So I take it the search for an answer is turning up squat?" Gunn asked Willow, who nodded in the affirmative.

"It's pretty elusive. I don't think any of these books has one. I've already surfed the entire web looking for an answer, but…" Gunn looked surprised.

"The entire web?" Willow nodded.

"I used magic. Got it done in a matter of minutes. I would do it to these books, you know, suck the information out of them thus bypassing the whole research process, but the mystical properties of them might kinda, you know, overload me. I keep the magic toned down these days."

"Cause of the whole destroying the world thing. I get that," said Gunn, smiling. Willow furrowed her brow, unsure what to make of his response. It still made her uncomfortable talking about it.

"Yeah, I assume you know the details. You don't seem to bothered by it though. That definitely wasn't the reaction I expected." Gunn shrugged.

"You're not the only person on our team who tried to destroy the world," he remarked, looking over at the approaching Angel.

"Yeah, I guess that's true. Hey Angel, we could set up a support group and have like, AA meetings or something," Willow said, ending with a small giggle.

"Apocalypse Anonymous?" Mused Angel. "Sounds like fun." Willow looked shocked. Did Angel just play along with a joke? She's expected him to just stand there with a broody look on his face. However, the joking ended sooner than she would have wished, as Angel moved onto more serious questions. "Tell me Willow, how exactly is your magic? Last I heard, you were in some kind of…higher plane?" he asked with arms folded, mug of blood resting in the crook of his right arm.

"Well, that's all quite a long story. The long and the short of it is that after the whole end of world phase of my life, I couldn't really be around magic too much, but I couldn't stop, as that might be worse-"

"-Because of your power," Angel finished knowingly.

"Yeah. I didn't use much until I made all the slayers into, well, slayers. That was some really powerful mojo. I was buzzing with energy for days after. For the last year I've been trying to keep my magic under control. It's workin' pretty well if I do say so myself. I can do most kinds of everyday magic without having to worry. I got better and better at controlling it. I thought I had it down. But…" she sighed. "I didn't. I know that now. I went to Tibet to learn how to use strong magic without loosing control, but they showed me that I've only just begun to control my power."

"Really?" Said Gunn. "Cause you look pretty in control to me."

"I'm not," Willow said, her tone for the first time betraying her emotions. There was defiantly fear in her voice. "There are sorcerers out there who are much stronger than me, even though I have more raw power, all because they can control it." Gunn indicated he didn't understand.

"Cyrus Vail," supplied Angel. Willow nodded.

"I've heard of him. Head of an empire. He's one of the world's big guns when it comes to magic. I have more raw power, but he has such mastery over his power that he can do things that I couldn't dream of doing."

"Had," corrected Angel. "He's dead. He's also the one who killed Wesley," he said darkly, a pained look on his face. It passed quickly.

"Oh," Willow whispered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's ok Willow." He and Gunn shared a look, one which said more than words ever could. Angel thought of each of his deceased friends in turn. He realised that Gun was right. He wasn't responsible for their deaths. He realised something else. Wishing they hadn't died in the service of good would be an affront to their memories. He was sure none of them would want him to torture himself over what had passed. He made a decision then and there. He was going to move on. He was going to find direction in life and he was going to follow it, no matter where it took him. He had a feeling the battle wasn't over, but he was going to live.

I've…made my peace."


	2. Journeys

It was close to three in the morning in Los Angeles. The city was dead, hardly a soul moving. Angel sat in his room in the Hyperion in almost total darkness, reclining in an armchair. In the distance, he could hear a lone car rushing along. Every now and then his vampyric hearing picked up the sound of tyres screeching in the distance. A gunshot from a rough area of town echoed through the night. Typical sounds for the city. He heard the same every night.

For a few moments, the sounds of the outside stopped, sheerly a coincidence. When they did, and the night was deathly silent, he could even hear the faint breathing of the other guests of the hotel.

Downstairs a door slammed shut, and he knew Buffy was back. Or at least he presumed it was her. This was the time she normally arrived back after patrolling the city. Always the slayer…He sighed in the blackness, longing for her. He recalled how he felt when she had first arrived in the hotel some days before.

* * *

Buffy strolled into the lobby, not knowing what to expect. The Devon witches coven, working with the New Watchers Council, had picked up a seriously major mystical disturbance in LA, even stronger than the one they had felt after Tara was murdered. In her book, LA equalled Angel, so she had boarded the first flight she could out of Rome, direct to California. The others were coming the following morning.

The hotel was totally devoid of life. Moonlight streamed in through the glass doors, offering the only lighting. Unlike most buildings, this one had no hum to it. No machines operated. No lights were on. A few papers were strewn around the desks, and a thin layer of dust covered everything. It was eerily silent.

Not that Buffy could see much. Although the main foyer was dimly lit by the pale blue moonlight, the office was a black void, as was under the stairs. The balcony was hidden in shadows so, requiring Buffy to squint to see anything. The place was desolate and empty.

"Hello? Angel? Wesley? Anybody?" Her voice echoed through the halls. No reply. She called out again, still nothing. Fear began to creep up on her. Until now, upon seeing this ghost hotel, she had never considered that Angel would have died. Now she fearfully considered the possibility.

Out of the corner of her eye, something moved. Buffy dropped her bag and snapped her attention to the balcony. She was looking directly at whatever was moving, but it was too dark to see. If she just looked to the left of the object, she fancied she could see an outline.

She knew Angel hadn't been living in this place since he moved to Wolfram and Hart, so she didn't dismiss the idea that this might be some squatter, possibly demon, but her worry that Angel wasn't ok still pressed on her mind. Honestly, she didn't even know why she came here. There had never been any guarantee that Angel would be here. "Show yourself, whoever you are!" Buffy demanded, readying a stake she carried around in her jacket pocket.

The figure moved forward, to the edge of the balcony overlooking the lobby, just enough for a stray ray of moonlight to illuminate its face. Buffy gasped. "What do you want?" it spoke. Its cold, unmistakeably feminine voice chilled Buffy. Unsure of herself for a moment, Buffy shifted uncomfortably in her spot.

"I'm looking for Angel. Is he here?" Buffy made eye contact with frosty blue eyes. Suddenly, without warning, the hotel started humming. Artificial light flooded the room as the chandeliers burst into life. Buffy got a good look now at the woman who had spoken to her. The blue-streaked hair, the blue tinted lips and forehead, the preternaturally pale face, the red body suit, struck her as both stunning and chilling. Buffy wondered exactly what she was. Her gaze tore away from Illyria as Angel came out from the basement door under the stairs.

He was just opening his mouth to speak, presumably to Illyria, when he saw Buffy. His whole body stopped and the words he was about to utter fell from his lips. "Buffy," was all he managed.

"Angel," she replied tersely, keeping the relief she felt at seeing him alive out of her voice. They both stood still, silently eyeing each other, seeing how much they had changed. Buffy looked older to Angel. Truly like someone in her mid-twenties rather than her mid-teens. And Angel…well, his hair was shorter…but other than that, Buffy couldn't see any difference in him.

"What are you doing here Buffy?" Buffy shrugged off his question with one of her own.

"I could ask you the same thing. I thought you lived in…bigger places than this these days."

For a few seconds there, all there had been was pure joy in his heart at seeing her. She had to go and wreck it, didn't she? Memories of her abandonment of him flooded back. She didn't trust him enough to mind a sick slayer, so she sent Andrew and a dozen slayers to take her from him by force. He folded his arms. They could talk about that later. For now, he was just glad to see her. "It didn't work out." What an understatement.

"Oh. So you're not evil anymore?" she asked, looking him directly in the eye.

"I was never evil!" he answered awkwardly, waving his hand in frustration.

"Oh, so all that stuff about Angelus nearly killing Faith was just her trying to make me jealous?" Buffy asked with eyebrows raised. Angel became exasperated.

"That's not what I meant! That was different…"

"Relax Angel. I know. I'm just having some fun." The look on Angels face was priceless. "Which I guess you don't appreciate." Angel relaxed his defensive posture, dropping his arms to his sides.

"I'm sorry Buffy. It's just……I've been through a lot. I've lost two friends in the last week and a third one is in hospital struggling to survive. The past year has been hard."

"Oh, and mine hasn't?" she said with a smile on her face, rolling her eyes.

"Well, not particularly," Angel commented in a conversational manner. "What with The Immortal and everything. I mean, I only averted The Apocalypse." The grin melted from Buffy's face as he said those words.

"How do you know about The Immortal?" He looked like a dear trapped in headlights. "Have you been spying on me?" Angel shifted between trying to look innocent, angry, and honest. He looked up and down a lot. He tried to look anywhere except at Buffy. "Angel!" she rasped. She caught his eye, and he couldn't bring himself to look away.

"Yeah. But it was just to make sure you were alright! And it wasn't even all the time!" Buffy began to shake her head and back away from him.

"I can't believe you Angel!"

"I know, it was wrong of me. I'm sorry Buffy." She looked at him with eyes full of hurt.

"You don't even know why I'm angry at you, do you? It's not the privacy-" Angel cut her off.

"I know." Looking at her earnestly, he continued. "I know. It was the fact that I could see you, but you couldn't see me." Buffy calmed down, and the two of them just stood, facing each other. On the balcony, Illyria watched them with interest. "But you have to understand why I did what I did."

"Oh I understand why you did it, Angel. It doesn't make it hurt less though. You did it so that you could feel good about yourself up there in that big ole office of yours." Angel looked confused. "You watched me so that whenever you let an evil demon away with murder, you could look at me, and fool yourself into thinking I'd forgive you." Her words cut him to the core. She was exposing his worst fears, telling him exactly what he couldn't bare to hear. "From up there on high, I bet you forgot what it was like to save a persons life. A lonely, scared person. You were too busy signing documents and hosting meetings to actually save someone!"

"A demon army," said Angel, before she could continue. She squinted at him, trying to understand his meaning.

"What?"

"A demon army. Upward of thirty thousand of them. I assume you're here because the council detected some major disturbance?" Buffy nodded, still unsure what he was getting at. "The disturbance was an army of demons. I betrayed the senior partners so badly that they sent an army to get retribution."

"Oh," said Buffy blankly.

"I admit that I lost sight of the little picture. I'm sure people died because I neglected them. But that whole time I was working to save the world. We hurt Wolfram and Hart so badly that it'll take them hundreds of years to recover. I can't ever regret that. No matter who died." Wesley. Fred. Maybe Gunn. He thought of all of them. Despite what he had just said, a surge of regret hit him hard. He stood silently for a long time.

"You defeated an army?" asked Buffy, kind of impressed, but not quite believing it.

"More or less," replied Angel uncomfortably, gazing up at Illyria.

"You are exaggerating to try and impress her. My study of humans has told me that when one exaggerates, the truth is often lost, which can lead to distrust and betrayal." Damn wise words for someone who could only effectively socialise with plants.

"That's the less part," admitted Angel sheepishly. "The army kinda…vanished. Into thin air."

"Huh?" came the reply. Well it was an understandable reply.

"I think we need to have a long talk over a cup of tea and catch up." Buffy blinked at him.

"A cup of tea? What are you, Giles?"

"It is kind of an Irish thing too…" he mumbled. Buffy smiled at him. God she missed him so much. She loved when he felt awkward. He'd shuffle that way he did and give her the eyes.

"Right, because you're so Irish. Could have fooled me!" she teased.

* * *

And that's how their meeting had gone. That was the more dynamic part of it. They talked about the spying. Buffy hadn't been happy about it, but eventually relented and forgave him. The rest had been catch up. She went first, at his insistence. He had an inkling that something wasn't completely right. And of course, he had been dead on. As she talked about her year, about Willow's recovery, Dawn's maturing, Xanders' fixing things and Giles' re-forming of the watcher's council, he got the feeling she wasn't quite as informed as she should have been. She didn't know that Angel had ever been in contact with Giles, asking for help, or about the visit he had paid her in Rome. Most of all, she didn't know about Spike. Clearly Giles did not want her to know, and Andrew seemed to be firmly in Giles' court. 

And so he learned about her year. That was all very well and good, except for the part about The Immortal, but he kept his mouth shut, something he knew Buffy was grateful for. When he explained about his year…well, Buffy got more and more upset as he went on.

Managing to not mention Spike at all, he still had to tell her about Giles refusing his help. She had felt so betrayed by Giles that she nearly cried. It ached inside for him to see her so upset. He had wanted nothing more than to make all the pain to vanish. It killed him that he couldn't even touch her, for fear of things getting out of control.

But they got through it. He explained Illyria to her. He explained about the Circle of the Black Thorn and _**the**_ apocalypse. Everything, including his visit to Rome, was included. But not Spike. He knew he'd have to tell her soon, but he thought hearing about him might be too much to handle for one night. And…loathed as he was to admit it, Spike held a place in Buffy's heart, making Spike a rival. A rival he wished didn't exist. He wished he'd never have to tell Buffy of his existence. He almost wished Spike had died in the alleyway. Almost. Spike, at the last moment, had gained Angel's begrudging respect. He was willing to die to save the world, at no gain to himself. That was champion material.

The kind of material chicks digged. The last thing he wanted was Buffy digging Spike in his presence. Well, not a problem for now. Spike took off after the non-fight in the alley with the express intent of not being near Buffy for the time being.

Angel could hear Buffy climbing the stairs of the Hyperion. Could she be coming here? They hadn't talked much since that first night. In a way, she almost blamed him for being so upset at Giles, whom she had not spoken to since he arrived at the hotel the morning after she had, too angry for words. None of the others knew what had transpired.

A knock sounded on his door. From here he should have been able to smell her, but he could not. In fact, he couldn't smell anything. Which could only mean…

"Come in Illyria." While disappointed that it wasn't Buffy, he was also moderately relieved. They would never be friends, and the tension between them was sometimes too much to bear.

Illyria quietly opened the door and strode in. After standing in front of Angel for a moment, she paced over to the window. The dawn was not too far off. Angel waited for her to speak, as he would not know where to start with her. After some minutes in abject silence, she spoke. "I…desire purpose. I am no longer satisfied to procrastinate in obscurity," she said in a low tone. Angel contemplated how she might be feeling. Lost? Certainly. He felt for her.

"Have you thought about what you want? If you only know what you don't want, you'll wind up without purpose, wandering aimlessly," Angel reflected, remembering his own time when he had not known what to do with his life.

Illyria scoffed. "What I want is for things to be like they were. They way they are meant to be, the world groaning under my beneficence, all manner of beings-"

"Look Illyria, if you want my help or advice, ask for it. But don't lament about the past. Your powers are gone and your kingdom is ash, and I don't wanna hear about it anymore," Angel said with impatience in his voice. He was sick of the mightier than thou talk.

"Very well," she conceded after a pointed silence. "I shall desist." Angel relaxed. Illyria turned from the window to face him directly. "You have proven me wrong." Angel raised an eyebrow. Illyria continued. "I previously said that all beings in this day and age grasp at the straws of power, each one desperately clutching a tiny piece of this world. I said that even the mightiest of people possessed but miniscule parts of it. But you proved me wrong. The Circle of the Black Thorn was of noticeable strength. Even though it was only for one fleeting instant, you acquired such power as to make theirs seem puny by comparison. You single handedly changed the balance of power on this plane, a feat that would have been impossible for even the mightiest of empires."

"Your point?"

"You proved that it is indeed possible to wield power without being strong. Though strong is something that I am no longer, the power I seek is attainable, as you have demonstrated." Now she had his attention. Wesley had been right: she would never stop seeking power. The question now was what would she do with it?

"And just how do you intend to get this power Illyria? And if you get it, what will you do with it?" Angel contested.

"Does it matter? I will get it however I can. You seem to think I want power for a reason other than its own sake. What I do with it is of no concern to me." No, Angel thought, but it might be of concern to others.

"Ok, so where do I come into it?"

Illyria turned away from him and paced casually around the dark room. "I do not know where to start. Before, my power rested on my strength, a single unified force. If I am to have power again, it will have to rest on many pillars. No single thing is enough. And therein lies my problem. I don't even know where to start! My guide…my…Wesley…is gone. Without him to lead me in this new world, I am lost. What constitutes power in real terms these days?" Angel rubbed his brow tiredly. It was late.

"What you call real power probably doesn't exist anymore. The closest is the power over the lives of people. It's truly superficial by comparison. I doubt it would satisfy you," Angel said in an almost off-handed manner. Illyria recognised his logic. She believed him to be correct. Maybe there really was no point. She recalled what she had once said: To defeat all your enemies and never die; that is what it means to win. And for so long, it had applied to her. But she had been defeated eventually. Murdered and condemned to the deeper well. Like a bolt of lightning it struck her.

"I can never win…" she said in the barest of whispers. She was almost overcome by the realisation. Everything dies. Angel just barely heard what she said. He smiled inwardly. Admitting what she just admitted was perhaps the humblest thing she had ever said. Maybe there was hope for her yet.

"No. Nobody can every truly win." She looked up, realising he had heard her.

"But I can try. He who has nothing to aim for may as well be dead already. Advice you would do well to heed." Now that caught Angel by surprise, and it clearly showed, as Illyria began to elaborate, something she wouldn't normally do. "Before, you aimed to save the world. You have done more than you ever hoped you could do. Now that it is over for the foreseeable future, you have no reason to be. All of your friends are dead. Nobody needs you………but nobody needs me either. That is not what makes us go on. It is our desires that make life interesting; so long as we have something to strive for, we will go on, even if it is difficult." She paused for a minute, giving Angel time to allow her words to sink in. "That girl, Buffy. I see the way you long for her. Heartache flows from both of you like a rancid odour filling a room. Serve no master but your ambition. I suggest you act on that advice once more. I know I will." With that, Illyria abruptly left the room, leaving Angel somewhat shell shocked. He didn't move for a long time after she left. It wasn't until the light of the dawn began to filter in through the cracks in the curtains, forcing him to move, that he got up from the chair.

"She can be really inspiring," he mused. Serve no master…he agreed. The world was safe. He could relax for a bit. He was going to grab the bull by the horns, stop moping, and damn well give Buffy a reason to be with him. He was going to find a way to give her what she needed. His heart felt almost light. It was like a door had just opened. He was standing in the cold, and a door to a nice warm room had opened and was inviting him in. All he needed to do was take a few strides, and walk inside.

With a smile on his face and a kick in his pace, he went downstairs. He heard a heartbeat in the lobby, as well as the scent of Buffy. As he got closer he felt something close to giddiness. He wasn't sure what he was going to say to her, but he knew it was going to be romantic. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

Spike. Spike kissing Buffy. Worse. Buffy kissing Spike. He came to a halt at the top of the stairs leading down to the lobby. The smile vanished from his face, replaced with a totally neutral expression. He knew that they had slept together. That had seriously pissed him off. But this was worse. Knowing about it and seeing it were two different things. He watched them until they stopped. It was still dark enough that he was obscured by shadows, so he wasn't worried about being seen by Buffy. Spike…well, he'd be surprised if Spike didn't already know he was there.

As soon as Buffy pulled away from Spike, she slapped him across the face. Hard. Spikes head snapped to one side and he immediately brought his hand up to massage his stinging face. That made Angel feel a little bit better, but it was no compensation.

"Oww! What the bloody hell was that for?" Spike yelled furiously, dumbfounded.

"Oh, like you don't know!" admonished Buffy. Spike rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Yeah, ok, I do know. It's because I didn't tell you I was alive and all. Can we go back to kissing?" he asked cheekily, throwing the barest of glances at the top of the stairs. Angel narrowed his eyes.

Buffy let her arms go limp. She was shocked to walk in and just find Spike, who she thought had died over a year ago, standing in the middle of the lobby. She was at a loss for words. She was trembling where she stood. Spike put his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye. "It'll be okay, slayer. I know this must be a bit of a shock an' all." A shock! More like a tremor.

"When?" was all Buffy could manage.

"A couple of months after the hellmouth," Spike admitted awkwardly. Buffy sucked in a breath.

"That long ago! And you didn't think I was worth contacting?"

Spike looked away, not really wanting to see the look in her eyes. He supposed it was best to try and sugar coat it a bit. "At first I was a ghost for a while, couldn't really do much of anything. After that…I tried. Me and Angel tried to see you in Rome-"

"What?" Buffy said dangerously.

"Me, and Angel-"

"I heard you…….Angel never mentioned you. That…bastard!" Spike looked up at the corner. Seemed Angel had split.

"It's cause he was respecting my right to choose, luv. In Rome, we looked everywhere for you, but you weren't to be found. Our mate Andrew said you'd moved on. Told us both to forget about seeing you. Judging by the fact you're here, kissing me, and were probably making puppy eyes with Angel not hours ago, I'd say that was a lie on his part." Buffy shook her head.

"Why would he lie to you? And not tell me you were alive? He is going to be so tied up the next time I see him!"

"I think the question you should be asking is, who would want him to? He isn't exactly the leader type. Who could possibly want you away from us? Who has access, and influence over him, and has at one point tried to get both me and peaches dead?" Buffy went deathly still as the answer hit her. He shook her to the very core, and hurt her so badly she wanted to cry. Jaw clenched, she uttered the name of the culprit.

"Giles."

* * *

Angel almost couldn't believe what he was doing. It was so spur of the moment for him, it actually reminded him of Spike. In the last few minutes, he had made a decision. Every time he saw Buffy, they were more and more distant. He could feel her slipping away from him. Spike was a wedge between them. Or, at least, that's how he wanted it to be. But he wasn't so short sighted. Spike was no wedge. Not in Buffy's eyes. He wasn't someone trying to get in the way; he was competing with Angel. To her, it wasn't one getting in the way of the other, it was two equals vying for her love. Or it would have been, if Angel had a hope. But his curse saw to that problem. Curse this, curse that. 

He was sick of it. Let ambition be your only master. His ambition was to be what Buffy needed, and the only way to do that was to do away with the curse. "You'll get what you deserve Buffy. I just hope I deserve it," said Angel as he walked through the sewers, away from the hotel. Physically, he was moving further from Buffy, but in his heart he felt closer to her with every step.

* * *

"I understand why you did it. What I don't get is how you could! You knew how important it would be to me! Keeping the men I…care about the most away from me…" Buffy broke off, deciding to let her silence do her talking for her. It was eight twenty two, and the gang had trickled into the lobby starting around seven. Buffy waited for Giles, who appeared last. 

He was leaning back in a chair, while Buffy stood a few paces away from him, arms folded and a stern frown besetting her features. Willow, Xander, Dawn and Spike were sitting in various spots throughout the lobby. They were all annoyed with Giles. Even Xander couldn't believe Giles would be so callous towards Buffy. He certainly didn't like Spike, or Angel for that matter, but he would never have deliberately concealed his existence from Buffy. Dawn was particularly upset, and Willow wasn't too happy either, especially after learning that Angel begged Giles for her help, but Giles had unceremoniously ignored him, and had kept Willow in the dark too.

"The reason I did not mention any of these happenings is because of Angel and Spike's affiliation with Wolfram and Hart. They became agents of the greatest evil power in the world," Giles explained, firmly stating every word. "Whether or not they like to admit it, they were doing evil."

"Yeah, for the greater good!" asserted Willow. "I'm sorry Giles, but if you have a choice between appeasing a bunch of evil demons by giving them a human sacrifice, or not appeasing them and having a demon war that would cause thousands of deaths, it would be immoral _not_ to give them a sacrifice, no matter who! I mean, I know it's not a great choice, but…"

"This isn't about results Willow! Angel and his team compromised themselves, something Buffy has never done. Evil cannot be fought with more evil, only good, and there is nothing good about offering human sacrifices!"

"Look Giles, I can see where you're coming from, and maybe at the micro level, that's true," began Xander. "But at the macro level…I'll put it this way. If Angel hadn't done what he did, if he didn't know when to look the other way, the big nasty apocalypse would still be on its way! End of days averted, Angel good. Not-so-good actions justified. Oh god, I just said that, didn't I? Maybe I'm going evil?" he joked half-heartedly.

The group slipped into an uncomfortable silence. Buffy thought that the uncaring, short-tempered Giles was just a product of the stress of fighting the first evil, but he hadn't relented. Nobody knew what happened. "You've changed, Giles," sighed Buffy. "You used to be…nicer." Giles said nothing, but the look he gave her said "people change. You did."

Illyria, who had been watching unbeknownst from the balcony, jumped down, landing heavily. Drawing up to her full height, she acted deliberately defiant. "I think I may have an answer to a question no one has yet asked," she said mysteriously, gazing emotionlessly at Giles. He stared back, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly. "Let me ask one question first. Is he anything other than human?"

This gained the confused mumblings of the group. "What? No. He's as human as they come. He has no…powers. He's…Giles!" said Xander.

Illyria cocked her head. "He's more. You cannot detect it, but there is more than one life force within him. Until now I believed that was normal for him, but when you mentioned that he had changed recently, doubt grew in my mind."

Buffy shook her head. "That's-" she was about to say impossible, ridiculous, but after a moments thought, she realised it wasn't. Far stranger things had happened before, including other cases of possession. "-The most likely explanation for your behaviour!" She surprised herself even as she said it. The other scoobies all came to the same conclusion at the same time.

"Yeah! That explains the all work and no play Giles!" Willow exclaimed. Giles looked deeply amused.

Giles removed his glasses, wiped them, and put them back on. "I must say, that's quite possibly the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. The only evidence you have is slightly altered behaviour, not an uncommon thing for humans, and the word of a demon. It's positively preposterous!" Giles laughed.

Any further argument or debate the gang may have allowed was cut short by Illyria, who grabbed Giles by the neck and hoisted him from his seat, holding him at arms length, his legs flailing for a foothold on something. Xander and Willow jerked from their seats and Buffy went ridged. "You may have fooled them, but I am not so easily misled."

"Stop it Illyria!" ordered Spike, who was now stalking over to her. Giles put a hand up, motioning Spike to cease his advance.

"It's quite alright. She's right. I'm just using this body. Have been for some time," said Giles causally.

After the inital shock wore off, Buffy folded her arms. She wasn't too worried for Giles' safety, as Illyria had mentioned two forces. The other one had to be the real Giles. "Get out of his body," Buffy instructed calmly.

"My pleasure!" Giles agreed with difficulty, his voice box distorted by Illyria. He opened his mouth, and a beam of white light shot forth, hitting Illyria in hers. Illyria was stunned, and dropped the now limp form of Giles, which fell to the ground.

Illyria, after a moment of dizziness, regained her footing. Taking a deep breath, she flexed her biceps, opening and closing her hands. She looked up at the group and smiled at them in a very un-Illyria like way. She began chuckling, but it quickly grew into a great bellowing laugh. "Oh man…this is power!" she said heartily. "Not exactly what I need to live, but it'll do for a while."

Buffy frowned. "And what exactly do you need to live? Why was Giles such a good host?" Illyria bent her neck to one side, then the other, generating several loud crunches as she cracked the joints, much like one cracks their knuckles.

"I live on emotion. In particular, the feelings that one gets when you have that long, slow loss of confidence in someone you trust and love, and let me tell you, I've been getting it in waves from all of you! I had all of Giles' memories, and I used them so that you'd slowly loose faith in me. When that happened, I'd simply move on. But I guess Illyria cut that short by exposing me. Too bad, I still had a few months left before I had totally milked this setup." Illyria continued to stretch, doing her legs next.

Buffy glared at the form of Illyria. "How long? How long have you been in there!" Illyria rested her chin in her hand, thinking.

"It was on the flight here from Britain just after the watchers council was destroyed. I transferred from a potential slayer during the in-flight movie. Giles was asleep. I could smell the love and trust on him. He was one tasty morsel!"

Buffy frowned, and slipped into a fighting position. "You bastard! All that time, and it wasn't Giles! You are so gonna regret ever entering him! So tell me, how do I get you out so I can kill you?"

Willow took that as her cue. "A simple exorcism should do the trick Buff!" she said, sounding damn sure of herself. She was gonna get this thing out. Nobody made Giles evil and got away with it on her watch. "All I need is a bible and a cross!"

"Yeah, cause a vampire is sure to have those thing lying around his home!" Dawn pointed out. Willows determined face grew less determined.

"Ahh…darn. Well, it'll be harder, but I think I can do it without either. I'll just have to kinda make it up as I go," Willow said, not sounding so sure this time. Xander looked impressed.

"You can do that? Make stuff up? I though it all had to come out of books even older than Giles?" Willow shrugged.

"Not really. I mean, someone had to make it up at some point, right?" Illyria glared at Willow, worried that she might actually pose a threat. Without warning, she jumped up onto the cheap desks, which groaned under her weight.

"Willow! Get away!" cried Buffy as she moved to intercept Illyria. Grabbing Illyria's legs, Buffy pulled her off the table and threw her on the floor. Illyria rolled into the reception desk before getting up, brushing herself off.

"You know, that might have killed Giles, but it didn't hurt this body one bit!" Illyria lunged at Buffy, taking swing after swing. Buffy either dodged or deflected the swipes, getting in a few jabs of her own. She grabbed Illyria's arm, and holding it in place kicked Illyria in the stomach, then in the face, sending her reeling. Illyria touched her finger to her lip, which came away bloody. "Bitch!" She stalked towards Buffy, who sent a powerful punch directly towards Illyria's face.

Illyria caught the fist, then the other one as Buffy lashed out. She head-butted Buffy with crushing force, and then grabbing her by the front of her jacket, launched her into the air. Buffy crashed into the ceiling twenty five feet above, causing plaster, dust and paint to fall, then fell back down to the ground, landing with painful thud. Spike ran at Illyria, and not allowing her to lay a hand on him, grabbed an arm and a leg. Using the force of his momentum, he swung her around and threw her head first into one of the marble pillars, which she hit with a sickening crack. She rose shakily, just in time for Spikes boot to crash into her head, slamming it back into the pillar. She blundered forwards, pushing Spike out of the way hard enough to knock him off his feet. Blood flowing from a nasty looking gash on her temple, she leapt at, or more like staggered at Willow. Before she could strike her, Xander rugby tackled her, knocking her over. Xander punched her in the face once, but recoiled in pain, holding his fist and cursing. It was like punching a wooden door.

She lay there for a moment, letting out a prolonged sigh. A mist crept from her mouth and nostrils. Xander tried to get away from it as it wrapped itself around him. With Willows help, he managed to break free. The mist gradually began to solidify, and before long a whitish-grey demon with a straggly appearance materialised. It was lying on the ground, breathing heavily. It looked injured.

Spike and Buffy, who had now recovered, came and stood over it. "How…how did you get me out?" it rasped.

Buffy looked over at Willow, who just shrugged. None of the others knew. "Does it matter?" asked Buffy matter-of-factly. Its eyes became downcast.

"I guess not," it wheezed with resignation in its voice. The purple, shallow eyes widened in fear as Illyria got up and towered over it.

"I exorcised you myself," Illyria stated angrily. "You are a fool if you think my mind can be defeated by a puny wretch such as you. You will die for your intrusion." Without further ado, she crushed its head beneath her boot. Once dead, the demon disintegrated into a cloud of mist, which dispersed gradually until nothing remained. Illyria turned her attention to Buffy.

"You are not badly damaged?" Illyria asked indifferently, surprising herself. She didn't know why she had even bother to ask. It just seemed like the thing to do. Buffy sported two large and growing black eyes from the skull shattering head-butt she had received, and would have bruises all over from falling twenty five feet onto a marble floor. Buffy shook her head painfully. God, it felt like her brain was slamming against her skull! "Good. I will be tending to my wounds in my room. I am not to be disturbed." She quickly exited, all eyes on her as she left.

Buffy slumped into a chair. Spike knelt in front of her with a tissue he got from behind the reception desk. "Dawn, could you go get some ice from the shop across the street? Should be open by now," Spike muttered. He pressed the tissue against Buffy's forehead, where a small cut was bleeding.

"She was strong," stated Buffy. Spike smiled.

"You can say that again. Should have been punched by her before she lost her strength," Spike said with a laugh. Buffy couldn't help but smile.

"I haven't been hit that hard since Caleb. And I don't think I've ever been thrown so far…I can't imagine what it must have felt like before she lost her strength!"

"Remember when Glory was hit by a truck?" Buffy nodded. "Like that."

"Can I just say how glad I am that she's on our side?" piped Xander. "I mean, isn't nice that for once the super strong demon isn't trying to huff and puff and blow our house down?"

"You can say that again. Hey, looks like Giles is wakin' up," pointed out Spike. All attention turned to Giles, who was being helped into a seat by Willow and Dawn. Buffy smiled despite herself.

"He's back. He's really back. And I didn't even realise he was gone!"

* * *

"So what you're saying is, you remember everything?" clarified Xander. "Like that time I was hyena boy?" Giles nodded, smiling. 

"Exactly like that. I could see everything. It was as if I was living it, only I wasn't in control. I saw the things I did, but I couldn't do anything about them. Everyone, I'm so sorry for all that has happened. Even you Spike. I don't want you dead. Buffy, I certainly don't want to keep you from Spike or Angel." Buffy smiled radiantly and hugged Giles for all of her worth.

"It's ok. I'm sorry that I didn't notice. Its just that with all the apocalypse and such, it seemed natural for you to be a…a..."

"Narky ole bastard?" Spike supplied.

"And then, after we were so used to it we…we didn't...think," offered Willow. They all felt guilty for not noticing sooner, and even though it wasn't his fault, Giles felt guilty for all the things the demon had done under his guise. The gang spent the next several hours making up, laughing, talking and healing rifts that never should have been there in the first place.

After an hour of standing around being ignored, Spike felt it was time to pull an Angel and vanish. He slipped away unnoticed. It was midday, so there wasn't exactly many places he could go. He didn't know where the sewers led, and he wasn't in the mood to find out, so he decided to wander around the hotel.

He'd never been in the Hyperion until today, so it was almost fun exploring it room-by-room, floor-by-floor. Most rooms were empty. Some were dilapidated. Some had large numbers of clothes in them, lying around. He grunted in approval, assuming an orgy or other group activity had happened there. One room had boxes and boxes of stuff belonging to Cordellia, untouched since her death. He didn't much feel like poking around her belongings, so he moved on.

Opening a door in one of the most remote and defunct areas of the hotel, he spied Illyria, sitting on her bed. She had a small basin of water and a damp cloth, which she pressed to her head. "I thought I said I was not to be disturbed," cautioned Illyria. Spike ignored her warning and closed the door behind him.

"Yeah, well I thought you'd make an exception for me. I don't fancy watching the children play catch up, and you're the only other one to talk to. I also thought I'd see how your head is. Sorry about that luv." Illyria glared at him.

"It would not have happened if I had been in control at the time. The parasite that entered me had no clue how to manage this body. And my body was not defeated by the likes of any of you. It was weakened by the battle that I waged inside. That is how you managed to damage me so easily." Spike held up his hands in defence. He wasn't quite sure about that, but he wasn't about to argue. He knew how much it must have hurt her pride to have been injured at all, let alone almost defeated.

"If it's any consolation, I don't think they're looking forward to a rematch. You really did a number on Buffy down there. She's the only person I know who hates loosing as much as you." Illyria said nothing, but continued to stare at Spike, as though she was looking through him at something behind. It might have unnerved another man, but Spike was used to Illyria. He just shrugged of her gaze, much to her annoyance.

"So what ya up to, blue?" Illyria raised an eyebrow, and followed him as he sat down beside her. "What I mean is, have you thought about what you want to do with your life?" She recalled her earlier conversation with Angel, but decided against retelling it to Spike. Still, she could make use of this new conversation.

"I…I have been considering my options. If I pretend to be the shell, then I can do much. I have all her abilities, her memories, and her knowledge. I have even considered living _her _life. It would be a learning experience." Now that surprised Spike, and it showed.

"Seriously?" Illyria nodded. "Well…that has some not so simple moral implications…I say go for it!" he exclaimed, shrugging off any moral problems he had been thinking about. "Just don't do it around me, Gunn or Angel." Illyria was taken aback. She did not expect him to support her.

"It…would not offend you? It offended Wesley." Spike shrugged.

"Yeah, understandable. You went around pretending to be his dead lover. You and me have never been lovers, so I don't really care. Angel and Gunn might, but it's your body now." Spike slowed down and became more serious. "Angel might blame you for Fred's death, but I don't. Knox is the one who put you in that body, and for all the love I had for its previous owner, I am not gonna take the moral high ground and condemn you for being what you are. Wouldn't be fair on you." Illyria reflected on Spikes words for a few minutes.

Of all the people she had come into contact with, Spike was the one who was most at ease with her. He was the only one who did not treat her with fear or indifference. He told her how she made others feel when no one else would, and he was always open with her. He was her guide now. He would lead her through this new world. She looked at him intently.

"You are my new Qwa'Ha Xhan ," she stated abruptly. Spike started.

"What, your new high priesty boy? I don't think so," Spike said dismissively.

"You are. Once I have conferred the title, only I can take it away. Whether or not you want it, I have chosen you."

"Look blue, its not that I'm not flattered you'd choose me an' all, but I don't want the responsibility. And I certainly don't want to have to perform any flashy rituals."

"You won't have to," she assured him. Looking down, she continued. "I need none. In the past all my rituals were designed to inspire awe and terror. I have accepted that the past is the past. All I am asking is your guidance in this world." Gradually, Spike began to nod in acceptance.

"Alright, I accept, in that case. But I'm an outside contractor, got it? I can quit if I want, and I don't get summoned, you come to me," he said forcefully.

"That would be acceptable," she conceded without much hesitation, surprising Spike. He thought it would be harder than that.

"Oh. Alright then. Lets shake on it?" he said, thereafter grabbing her hand and shaking it. When he let go, she looked at his hand and then back to hers, as if to make sure he hadn't done something sneaky. "First lesson. When you first meet someone, or when closing a deal, it's customary to shake their hand, once if it's a chance encounter, and more than once if you're being introduced. If you're trying to flatter somebody you want to get something out of, up to six times is advisable." Illyria furrowed her brow.

"That is pointless and intrusive." Spike shrugged as if to say 'nothing I can do about it'. "What else is customary?"

* * *

"So, what do we do now?" was the general question being asked by the scoobie gang. With Giles back, it almost seemed like a new beginning. Now that he was smiling and laughing for the first time in years, the gang realised exactly what they had been missing. The phoney Giles had slowly been sucking the life from the group, and they had not even noticed until the real Giles was breathing the life back in. 

"Well I for one have no life to speak of. It is actually kinda depressing," remarked Xander. Everyone knew and felt for him. His family had not made any effort to find him after Sunnydale was destroyed, a fact which didn't actually bother him. Anya was dead, and all his belongings lost. Essentially, he was unemployed, homeless, and without family.

Buffy and Dawn were in the same situation, with their father still AWOL. Willow had contacted her mother, who was in even worse shape than she was, having lost everything. They were all dependant on Giles and the council, and as Giles had just recently told them, the council was nearly bankrupt.

That had not sobered the group as one might have expected. Instead it started a passionate discussion about the future of the watchers council.

"I hereby submit a job application for full time watcher!" Xander exclaimed. "I wanna get paid for making a difference!" Giles shook his head.

"No, that would never do," he said disdainfully. Xander looked appalled.

"Whaddya mean it would never do? I'm probably one of the most qualified people out there. So many watchers died you're running a bit short on manpower. Beggars cannot be choosers G-man! What's wrong with me? Don't I know enough about demons or slayers or something?"

"You're not British enough," Giles said, acting as though it were obvious. Xander's jaw dropped, and Giles began to laugh.

"Ha ha. Very funny. Nice to know the good old condescending Giles is back," Xander said with an inspiring wave of his fist. Giles relented.

"You're hired. Now the problem is paying you. Only the very highest levels of the council had access to its bank accounts, and they're all dead." Giles rubbed his forehead. "Any records relating to fianances that may have existed have been destroyed. We'll be totally bankrupt within a month. Without money, we'll be relying solely on volunteers, and while it always helps to have them, they're simply not as effective as full time watchers, who are paid to do nothing but demon research. We also can't hope to train even every third slayer if we have no funding."

"Why?" asked Dawn. "I know that's probably a dumb question, but…why?"

"You're right, that was a dumb question," chided Buffy.

"No no, that's quite alright," assured Giles. "Well Dawn, for example, real swords cost several thousand dollars for a good one, and a real crossbow not much less. We have to pay contractors to dispose of demon corpses when necessary, there's the councils non-slayer shock troopers, and…and international telephone calls? The list goes on. Suffice to say, Buffy costs about thirty thousand pounds a year to maintain." Buffy's eyes widened in amazement. "Until its destruction, the council paid for her, even after she quit. Of course after I was fired I never saw a penny of it. And now we have possibly as many as three thousand slayers, half of whom we haven't even contacted due to lack of manpower. If you do the maths, the cost of properly training all of them is ninety million a year, not even counting the other divisions of the council. No, The First struck a fatal blow against the council." That news kind of mellowed the mood. They hadn't realised it was so bad.

"So we're up shit creek without a paddle?" Dawn summarised, to Buffy's horror. She may be an adult for all intents and purposes, but Buffy still felt she shouldn't be talking like that. Giles nodded sombrely.

"Well, we don't have to be! We could…well, not get a hundred million dollars a year, but I have some ideas that could get some of it!" exclaimed an animated Willow.

"Pounds," pointed out Giles tonelessly after a polite cough. "A hundred million British pounds. That's closer to two hundred million dollars." Willow's expression dampened. Giles raised his eyebrows. "Although anything is better than nothing. What's your idea Willow?" he inquired with interest.

She got up from her seat and grabbed an ornament from a shelf in Angel's office, returning to the lobby holding with glee. She handed it to Giles, who looked at it with mild interest. "A broach of Scalo. Quite rare and sought after for its mystical properties, especially its ability to store cherished memories," summed up Willow. "On the market, one of these would sell for over ten thousand dollars!"

"Yes," began Giles sceptically. "But ten thousand dollars is a pittance compared to our needs." Willow grinned.

"I can make them." Giles was immediately interested.

"Are you sure?" Willow nodded.

"Yeah. I can make them in batches, I'm sure. Maybe ten or twenty a day! They wouldn't be quite as good as one of the originals, which were all made in ancient Mesopotamia, but they'd sell for several thousand each! And that's not all. I think that with a bit of practice I could enchant loads of items to have mystical qualities! I mean, every magical artefact must have had a maker, so I don't see what's stopping me! If I'm careful, that is." Giles rose from his seat and paced the room in deep thought, holding his glasses in his hand, which was resting on his face just below the nose.

"I think you just might be on to something there Willow! That could certainly earn several million dollars per year. Maybe more if you could learn to make even rarer ones. But…"

"I knew there was gonna be a but," pointed out Xander.

"But we would have to be responsible about it. That means doing background checks on potential customers to make sure they wouldn't use the artefacts to harm humanity. It would also mean not selling dangerous artefacts to people who might be hurt by them." Willow nodded in agreement.

"So, you wanna go for it?" she asked hopefully, rejoicing when Giles replied in the affirmative.

"Cool, so we'll have some money soon. We need lots of money sooner," pointed out Buffy.

"What for?" came a masculine voice from the door. Gunn strode in confidently, dressed in his usual street clothes. Giles filled him in on their situation. Gunn listened intently. He had a few suggestion of his own.

"This is something I've always thought about, but it wasn't really practical before. Now though…" Gunn started, deliberately taking his time. They all asked him to go on. "You and Angel could fix this place up, make it back into a hotel." They all looked a bit unsure.

"I don't know Gunn, it is a bit of a fixer upper. It would be a lot of work, more work than it's worth," said Buffy. Gunn shook his head and wagged his finger.

"I wouldn't dismiss it so quick. First off, there are grants you can get for a listed building like this one. It's in a nice part of town. Fix it up and get rid of the wall paper-" he shuddered at the thought of that hideous crap lining the walls. "-And this could be a four or five star hotel. Also, I know some ways I could get you off the hook with the IRS. It would boost profits."

"Tax evasion?" commented Buffy sceptically. Gunn shook his head.

"Tax avoision. Perfectly legal. There are ways. Being an evil lawyer has its up sides. I could go through all the red tape for you. You should seriously consider it. Where's Angel? He should hear this." Buffy shrugged.

"Dunno. I haven't seen him at all today. I think he's out," she said. Gunn laughed.

"Out? Him? Where, sunbathing?"

* * *

Not quite. After dodging the sunlight that streamed in there the huge windows at LA international airport, drawing some attention to himself, Angel had managed to hide in one of the crates of luggage. He was now being loaded on board a flight straight Europe. He was kind of excited to be going back. With the exception of his brief visit to the deeper well, he hadn't set foot in Europe since he left for New York a hundred years ago, primarily because in every village, town and city he could not avoid seeing a place where Angelus had murdered someone. America had been a clean slate. Now he was going back. It didn't bother him as much as he thought it would, and that bothered him. 

For a brief moment, he doubted his plan. It was a curse for a reason. To get it revoked? Did he deserve the happiness clause removed? He thought of Buffy, and his resolved steeled. Even if he didn't, she did, and the world deserved to be totally safe from Angelus. The flight took off and he drifted off to sleep among the luggage.


	3. Fun at Night

* * *

It had been two days since Angel vanished. Spike was the last person to see him, but hadn't even seen which way he went. Gunn checked every place in the county he thought Angel could have possibly gone, but no one knew where he was. Willow had even performed a locator spell, which had only managed to confirm he wasn't in southern California at all. She didn't want to risk a global locator spell, as she felt it would bring her too close to her dark side to deal with. There was only one clue. A five second message on the answering machine, left by Angel about twenty hours after Spike saw him.

"Buffy, it's Angel. Don't worry about me, I'm fine. There's something I have to do right now, but I'll be back, hopefully soon. Bye." And after that, zilch. Only Spike knew what had set Angel off, though he didn't have a clue what Angel might be up to. Honestly, Spike didn't care. It meant less competition. After some initial tongue-lashing (and not the good kind), Buffy had relented and was just glad to see him.

Not too glad though. Not the jump and wrap her legs around him glad he'd been hoping for, but not really expecting. More the kind of glad where there are lots of sad smiles and 'I missed you"'s. But she got over that phase soon. Much to Spikes displeasure, she had spent the last two days frantically searching for Angel. The kiss they had shared in the lobby was one of Buffy's self-styled "hello" kisses, one of the type she had given Angel during the fight with Caleb. Seems she still loved the poof. Well, at least he wasn't out of the running yet.

Willow had enchanted her first magical item earlier that day, and was already getting offers on EBay for over twenty seven thousand dollars, to her absolute exuberance. She wouldn't stop reminding people that the auction wasn't over for another eighteen hours.

Gunn had sent over someone to give an estimate on the cost of renovating the hotel, and the building contractors gave the cost at 1.2 million dollars, which Gunn estimated Angel could get an eighty percent grant for, thanks to the buildings status as a protected structure.

That wasn't all the financal advice Gunn had supplied.

Gunn had acquired the keys for Angel's viper, and was now driving downtown with Giles, Dawn and Xander squeezed into it. He pointed out some of the sights, as well as the occasional star that appeared (Was that guy William Shatner?). They were in the heart of the city, high-rise skyscrapers lining the streets and people with thousand dollar suits walking along busily. The midday sun reflected off the glass towers, making the streets down below even brighter.

Gunn signalled left, and turned into an underground car park below the biggest building of all. He parked near a lift so as to minimise the walk. The four of them exited the car and entered the lift. Gunn pressed the button for the 90th floor, and they began to shoot upwards.

"I take it you've made some powerful friends during your time with Wolfram and Hart Mr. Gunn," commented Giles. Gunn nodded offhandedly.

"Yeah, but not ones I'd still trust. This friend we made long before we signed the deal with the devil. And its just Gunn. Only the judges call me mister. At least, when I'm not the one on trial," he joked, gaining a laugh from Dawn and Xander. After about a minute of listening to elevator musack, a bell went ding and the doors opened, leading directing into a very large confrence room.

As they exited, they were greeted by a very friendly man, who insisted on rigorously shaking all their hands in succession. He was short, kind of pudgy around the face, and very happy to see them. "Willow, Dawn, Giles, this is David Nabbit, owner of the software empire that bears his name. Dave, Willow, Dawn, Giles," Gunn introduced.

"It's great to see you again Gunn," he said earnestly, shaking Gunns hand with fervour. "I was heartbroken when you told me about Wesley and Cordy. They didn't deserve to die. I know we didn't really know each other that well, but I'll miss them all the same…" The gang silently remembered Cordy and Wesley for a few moments. David smiled sadly, and quickly showed them to their seats at the large oval conference table. He sat beside Gunn, and across from Giles, Dawn and Xander.

"Now, Gunn tells me you have some serious financial problems, right in the middle of the fight against evil. Let me say now, that I would _love_ to help. I've always had a thing for fighting evil," he said, looking kind of embarrassed.

"You've fought evil before?" inquired Giles, interested. David chuckled slightly.

"Not really. I used to play Dungeons and Dragons _a lot_. Got kind of into it, and it led me into the world of demons. That's how I met the folks at Angel investigations."

"Dungeons and Dragons? I love that game!" exclaimed Xander, becoming embarrassed himself when Dawn and Giles cast him weird looks.

"We should get together and play it sometime. I've been busy these last few years, but I'd like to go again," suggested David. Gunn coughed politely. "Yes, of course. I take it that's your overview?" David asked, motioning to the file Giles carried with him. It contained details of their financial requirements. Giles nodded and handed it over. David looked it over, his chipper expression becoming slightly downcast as he read on.

"Before we go on Mr. Nabbit," began Giles. "I would like to say that any help would be appreciated, and we're very grateful for even being considered." David looked up at Giles and flashed a toothy grin.

"Please Mr. Giles, call me Dave." Giles nodded. David closed the file and folded his hands in front of his face, his two index fingers reaching his nose. He suddenly looked like a businessperson, and not the half-grown young man of a moment before. "What you're asking for is a lot. But you're saving lives, an agenda I believe is worth every penny. I will help has much as I can, but even I can't cover that kind of expense fully. I would if I could, but a lot of my wealth is tied up in stocks and bonds."

Giles looked flustered. He was obviously very uncomfortable with accepting the charity of David, especially a donation as large as he was looking for. "Even a small amount would save lives, David." David smiled sincerely at the three people across the table.

"Please Mr. Giles, don't worry about taking my money. I have more than I know what to do with. I'd be happy with a thousandth of my wealth. Sadly, if I turned my stocks into cash, my shareholder wouldn't be so happy. I might be liable for…well, assassination among other things. But I'm going to write you a cheque, and I'm going to make it out to a charity that you now own, so that it will move swiftly and untaxed into your account. As a gift, I'm also imparting fifty thousand shares in my company to you. You can sell them if you wish, or keep them and gain dividends every year." David pulled a chequebook from his trouser pocket, and a pen from the pocket of his striped shirt. He signed it, and then handed it to Giles. Xander and Dawn peered in.

"How many zeros is that?" Dawn exclaimed breathlessly.

"Wait, those small zeros mean cents!" said Xander.

"No, I ran out of room so I had to squeeze them in," said David, amused. "And I can also lend you six full time accountants to help you spend it. Like I said, I'd give you more, but it's tied up. That should pretty much clear my liquid assets. But I earn that much in a good year, so come back if you need more. And you guys are welcome to hang here any time you want, really."

Recovering some of his composure, Giles nodded in agreement. "Y-yes, absolutely. And you are welcome in every single property owned by the council in the world. You must come for tea some time at the hotel, I insist on it," he said, still shocked. Now it was Giles' turn to vigorously shake David's hand, which he did so by almost leaping across the mahogany table. David blushed from all the flattery. Giles shook his hand all the way to the lift, insisting that Dave call him Giles instead of Mr. Giles. Dawn and Xander also gave a hearty goodbye, Xander promising to meet up some time for a round of fantasy role-playing.

* * *

"A BILLION DOLLARS?" shouted Buffy at the top of her lungs when Giles handed her the cheque. She quickly became short of breath and had to sit down, waving her hands to fan herself. "As in a thousand million!" Giles laughed. Everyone was absolutely ecstatic about the money. Willow had actually almost fainted.

"And fifty thousand shares? Did you get a paper to find out their worth?" exclaimed Willow. Giles nodded and handed her a copy of the Times. Ignoring the front page, Willow flipped to the business section. She shrieked and dropped the paper in excitement when her eyes rested on the figure, jumping up. "Giles, the shares are worth nearly eight thousand dollars each, and have been growing at a quarter percent every day for years! They're worth nearly four hundred million dollars! In dividends that's…a shit load! Whoa…I'm feeling faint again," she remarked, sitting down.

After almost ten minutes of dancing and screaming about how good things had suddenly gotten, the gang had decided to throw a full-fledged party, so that dancing would not be a strange thing.

It was kind of a spur of the moment thing, but within two hours, balloons littered the lobby of the Hyperion, and several uncorked bottles of champagne stood on the table. They had invited David over to be the guest of honour. Spike had shown up, mainly to get drunk, and now stood in the corner, chatting to Willow, Gunn and Dawn. Buffy, Xander, David and Giles were sitting around in a circle, Buffy and Xander animatedly telling David about some of their adventures, stories he absolutely revelled in, calling Buffy and Xander "the epitome of cool". Giles rolled his eyes, saying you couldn't be truly cool if you didn't like the Sex Pistols. At Spikes insistence, Illyria had come down. She was standing alone in another corner, looking sullenly at the festivities. Spike had put a cone-shaped party hat on her head and instructed her not to remove it. She wasn't sure if it had a point. Little did she know that Spike had done it for his own amusement.

As the night wore on and more alcohol was drunk, the conversation deepened. "So…you're like a…demon?" a nodding David asked Illyria, who was still wearing her hat. Illyria was holding a glass of champagne Spike had given her. It even had a cherry in it. It was her eighth glass, and it was starting to go to her head.

"I am a god. My greatness showered the land in a reign lasting a million eons. I travelled seven dimensions at once, ruling each one of them with infinite power and omnipotent glory." David nodded, defiantly impressed.

"Cool. So…how'd you wind up here?"

Giles, Willow and Xander were now discussing how to go about spending the money, with Gunn politely listening, giving his opinion on the various suggestions. The general agreement was that only decentralisation would work on a global scale. They'd send the remaining watchers all the resources they needed, and let them use the money as they saw fit. However, they couldn't agree on much else. Willow in particular was slurring her words, not used to alcohol at all. She came up with all kinds of ideas that didn't seem practical.

Spike and Buffy were sitting on the bench in the garden outside. Unusually, it was raining quite heavily. The jasmine in the garden swayed under the weight of the falling raindrops. Buffy held a nearly empty glass, while Spike clutched a nearly empty bottle. They were looking at each other with emotion filled gazes. The sounds of the party inside were but a distant murmur to them. They sat just far enough away from each other so as not to be close, but close enough that Spike could feel the warmth of her skin radiating outwards.

"When I realised you were gone Spike, I cried over you. For months I'd have dreams about you. Some were nightmares, where you died again and again, others were wonderful dreams," Buffy trailed off, not really wanting to finish the sentence. Spike wrung his hands. This was a lot more awkward than he had hoped their "big talk" would be. The alcohol only helped marginally.

"I dreamed of you too, Buffy. When I was a ghost, I couldn't sleep, but if I sat still for long enough in a dark room, my mind would drift. I'd see images of you. Of us. Together." He looked at her. She smiled softly at him.

"What's the first thing you did when you became corporeal again?" she asked innocently. Spike looked up for a moment. He defiantly couldn't tell her what he'd actually done…

"I kicked Angel's broody ass." Buffy burst into a fit of drunken giggles. Spike raised his eyebrows, chuckling. "What? You find that funny?" he asked incredulously.

"No, I'm sorry. It's just…yes!" More giggles. "You...(laugh) and Angel…(laugh)and your rivalry. He told me all about it once." Spike rolled his eyes.

"I bet he left out the good parts." Buffy eventually calmed down, her giggles falling into a sad silence.

"I'm so worried about him. I don't even know where he is. I mean, he just up and leaves like that. It's like the end of high school all over again, only this time he didn't say goodbye. I don't even know _why_ he left!" she said broken-heartedly. As often happens with alcohol, she went from being happy to being sad in a matter of seconds. A breath caught in her throat as tears started to fall from her eyes. "Was it me? Can he really not stand me _that_ much?" Oh bugger. Spike cursed Angel. Damn him for doing this to Buffy, and damn him to hell for being _able_ to do this to Buffy. Jealousy coursed through Spike, but when he looked at Buffy and saw how fragile she was, he forced himself to swallow his pride, and pulled Buffy into a hug.

"I'm sure it wasn't you love. He left for his own reasons. And he said he'd be back! No need to cry." Buffy wiped her eyes on Spike's shirt, pulling away, laughing despite herself.

"God, this is probably the last thing you want to be dealing with; hearing me cry over another man." Spike shrugged off her comment.

"You wouldn't be wrong. But this…this should be about you, not me," he said, drunkenly stumbling over his words. His selflessness touched Buffy so much she wanted to cry again, but for a different reason. Instead, she rested her forehead against Spike's, looking into his eyes. They were so close that they could easily smell the others' alcohol-laden breath.

"I'm so sorry Spike. The way I've treated you. I'm disgusted with myself. Can you ever forgive me?" Her eyes became downcast. "How could you ever love me? I don't deserve you. I don't deserve either of you. I mean, what do you guys even see in me? I'm not that special. Apart from the Slayer thing, I've got nothing going for me." Spike's face displayed shock and love as she said those words.

"Is that what you think?" She nodded as much as their proximity would allow. "Buffy, we…I love you, because you can be so compassionate. You have a heart of gold. You treated me like a man when no one else did." Buffy almost scoffed. She didn't think she was anywhere near as great as Spike was saying. "Most of all, I love you because you never gave up on me. You are what gives me the strength to go on these day. The hope that one day, you might…...you might…" Spike repeated more slowly, grasping her hand in his.

"Love you back?" she supplied, her voice barely above a whisper. Spike nodded, oddly breathless for someone who didn't need to breath. With agonising slowness, she moved closer to him, her lips brushing his ever so slightly. "I do." She was so close when she said that that Spike could feel her lips move. She looked away, breaking the magical moment that had existed. "But…" Spike sighed.

"Angel." I'm. Going. To. Fucking. Kill Angel. Buffy quickly got up, leaving Spike hurting for contact.

"I'm so sorry. I can't talk about this right now. I'm going to bed." With that, she hurried away, leaving Spike alone with his feelings. The rain continued to pour. Spike got up, and roaring in frustration, threw the bottle against the ground as hard as he could.

* * *

Willow watched as Buffy practically ran up to her room, tears gleaming in her eyes. She also heard Spike yelling, followed by a bottle smashing. Yep. Seemed like things were normal between them once more. Willow wondered if she had punched him this time.

"So what does it do?" asked Xander, snapping Willow's attention back to the conversation with Giles. Gunn was now over with David, talking business. Willow glanced at the magical pendant Xander was showing her. Squinting at it so as to see it without the world spinning slightly, she saw it was a pendant of Pyrexia.

"Oh, that's pendant of prexya," she said drunkenly, pointing at it with a swaying hand. "It's used as medium to start fires. In the hands of beginners and non-magical people, you could use it to light a cigarette. A more accomplished witch could make a flamethrower out of it. Me…well, lets just say the whole LA fire department would be needed to put the blaze out. But that's not all!" Willow explained excitedly. "It can be used as a central heating system, warming rooms or even buildings! It can be handy if you're planning a trip to the north pole or Mount Everest too! I made the one you're holding. The original is upstairs!" Xander and Giles looked impressed.

"Very good Willow. Those would fetch a fair price. Can you work out a way to make them give off heat without needing to be managed by a witch?" inquired Giles.

"Yeah, think about it Will. You'd help solve global warming if people used these to heat their homes instead of fossil fuels!" pointed out Xander. Willow nodded ruefully.

"Yeah, I could. And helping mother earth is always on a Wicca's agenda!" Willow said with a self-assured nod. Xander handed his glass to Willow.

"Could your agenda include pouring me another?" Willow grinned and reached behind her for the bottle, which was sitting amid a cluster of empty ones. She grabbed it, after missing several times, and brought it to the fore, her face falling when she realised their last bottle had nothing in it.

"Oh no…we're all out," she whimpered. Giles sat up, looking deadly serious.

"Dear lord. Already? No, that won't do. We need to get more," Giles recommended. "There's a shop not far from here. It doesn't close until one. If one of us goes now we should still make it." Xander looked at him in horror.

"You're not meant to say that! You be Giles, the definition of all things not wild!" exclaimed Xander. Giles rolled his eyes.

"Oh please, I've been possessed for the last two years. I think I deserve to let myself go. I did also happen to be a hooligan in my youth. It's not completely vanished! And we should get the most expensive bottle we can find!" he declared, pulling out a credit card from his tweed jacket. "So who wants to go?" he asked, waving the card around, waiting for takers. Willow rose shakily and took the card.

"I'll do it. Besides I need a breath of fresh air. So what should I get, more champagne? Or maybe a nice white wine? Or both?" Walking out from the circle of chairs, she strode slowly towards the front door, checking her pockets and fixing her clothes.

"Can I get some beer?" asked Dawn hopefully. Buffy had not wanted her to drink at all, but relented eventually at Giles' recommendation, saying that no harm could come from a civilised drink like champagne, in the company of adults. A resounding 'NO' answered her question.

"No beer Willow. But other than that, you decide. Hurry back!" Willow nodded and left, getting relief for a moment when the cold air hit her, but her face falling when she saw it was pouring rain.

"Rats!" Oh well, no use fighting mother nature. She steeled herself for the torrent, but just as she was about to start sprinting, she had an idea. Maybe there was use fighting nature. She could use the pendant of Pyrexia to create a pocket of heated air around her, which would evaporate all the rain before it even hit her. She debated for a while, not sure whether to go ahead with it or not. On the one hand, wasn't the simplest spell, and the pendant was a prototype: not one hundred percent. On the other, she was nowhere near as magically fragile as she had been a year ago. And she _really_ didn't want to get soaked. Making up her mind, she pulled it from the pocket of her jeans and clutched it.

"Warm my way and let me not be cold," she recited. A flash of red light and a burst of harmless flame engulfed her, before rapidly spreading out, dissipating as it moved further from Willow. She felt very warm and snug, though there was no visual difference at all to her surroundings. Smiling with satisfaction, she strode confidently into the rain. She could hear many hissing sounds as drops that would have hit her simply turned into steam about a finger's breadth from her body.

She walked down the street to the shop, which was several blocks away, beaming in satisfaction as even puddles turned to gas upon contact. She left behind her a trail of dry footprints, where the presence of her feet caused the pavement to become parched, only for them to vanish once more under the downpour. She walked into the shop, a dedicated off-licence, and saw Spike browsing through the Spirits section, briskly handling the various vodkas, whiskeys, rums and cognacs, looking for one that appealed to him.

Willow walked over to him. "Hi Spike! Looking to get drunk?" she asked sympathetically. Spike put the bottle he'd been handling back on the shelf.

"Yep. Me and Buffy had a few words, and now I want to get bleedin' twisted. I obviously don't need to tell you. I 'spect everybody noticed Buffy strutting through the lobby, and me not." Willow half nodded.

"Well, not so much strut as...flee. But she'll be ok. You two didn't even hit each other this time, so it can't be that bad, right?" Willow joked. Spike looked down, chuckling, rain water dripping from his head as he did so.

"It was bad. But I don't really want to talk about it, red. I just want to get a bottle of hooch and listen to some Sex Pistols. Wouldn't mind drying off either." Willows eyes went wide.

"Aww…" she said empathically. "I know just the thing!" She pulled Spike into a hug. He tried to back away before she had him, but she got him anyway.

"H-Hey! I don't need a bloody hug! Are you drunk or something?" Willow nodded.

"Little bit." Spike rolled his eyes, but started looking confused when steam started rising off him.

"Hey! You're wearing a cross or something! I'm burning!"

"Nope. I'm making you dry, like you asked. I cast an anti-water spell to stop me from getting wet!" That would explain it. He had been wondering how she could walk in the door with no coat and no umbrella without a spot of moisture on her. When he was dry she released him.

"Oh. Thanks for that. Now I get to be wet again when I leave," he said wryly with a shrug. Willow pressed her lips together. She hadn't thought of that. She figured she could just give him another hug when they got back. "So. What brings you here?" he inquired with mild interest.

"We ran out of booze, and it's s way too early to stop celebrating, so I volunteered to get more. And…here I am. And now…I will go to the aisle where it is at, and…get it," she said awkwardly, pointing over he shoulder to the champagne. She turned and headed over, her gaze going straight to the prices. She grabbed three of the bottles marked $150.

"No no, you don't want that crap," said Spike from over her shoulder. "That was a terrible year. They've just jacked up the price because it's so old. _This_ year is much better," he recommended, handing her a bottle from the bottom shelf. She put the other ones back and took it from.

"But this one is only fifty dollars!" she protested.

"Price isn't what makes a drink taste good, luv, neither is age. Trust me. Kind of an expert on being old and drinking alcohol." Willow shrugged and gathered two more of the fifty-dollar bottles into her arms.

"Whatever you say Spike. But I never really took you for a connoisseur. I thought of you as more a-" Spike rolled his eyes and interrupted.

"Yeah, I know. A beer guzzling, intravenous vodka fiend. I get that all the time," he said shaking his head in disgust. Willow became worried.

"Oh, I didn't mean to offend you Spike. Of course, you've been around for ages. You must have broadened your tastes." Spike got over it, and smiled nostalgically.

"Yeah. It was in Italy in the fifties. I decided to drop the whole working class thing and try my hand at being a poshie. It was fun for a while, but by the time punk music came out I was sick of it, so I wholly embraced the violence once again. Good times…" he drifted off. Snapping back to attention, he continued. "Of course, I never did quite loose my taste for good drink after that. Comes in handy every now and then."

Heading over to the checkout, Willow put the three bottles on the counter and withdrew Giles' credit card. The old man cashier looked her over sceptically.

"I.D." The gruff command sent Willow's heart crashing through the floor. She didn't have it with her.

"'Salright, it's mine, she's just carryin' it for me," said Spike, coming over, a bottle of whisky in his hand. He placed it down with Willows' bottles. Spying the shiny plastic card in Willow's hand, he swiped it and handed it to the cashier. The cashier ran it through the machine and handed Spike a slip of paper to sign.

"Sign her Mr. Giles." Spike glanced at Willow, and the two quirked their eyebrows at each other, grinning.

* * *

Spike and Willow returned to the hotel bearing alcohol, which was hastily consumed by the people present. The humans of the group were now all sitting together, laughing at every dumb joke and old memory that came their way. Spike and Illyria stood together, drinking whisky.

"They have so many problems, yet they celebrate. Indeed, it seems that they are celebrating their problems. Why?" Illyria asked Spike. Spike gazed at the six humans.

"Cause they haven't got anything better to do?" Spike quipped. "Cause, if they don't celebrate something, their lives become meaningless." Illyria stared at them.

"It seems logical that they should celebrate only when they achieve their goal. These humans have achieved nothing. There is much to do. Their mirth is premature." Spike shook his head in disagreement.

"Do you know how few people ever achieve their main goal in life? Almost none. So the rest of us set many small goals, and celebrate each time one is reached. Sometimes, the goal _is_ to celebrate." Illyria's gazed moved down to her glass, half-filled with vodka. She took a drink.

"I see."

"And very often, these smaller goals add up to a bigger goal. Humans are small-minded compared to you. If they try to look at the bigger picture, and try to take it on all at once, they go mad."

"I understand. So what you are saying is that I should do the same? Rather than try to take back what was mine all at once, I should take it in segments?" Spike nodded.

"Tell you what blue, why don't you think of something that you want. Something small. Something even a human could get their mits on." Illyria thought for some time. The alcohol clouding her brain didn't make things go more quickly.

"I want……" she didn't finish. Spike waited about twenty seconds, but no more information was forthcoming. Spike suddenly got a wicked idea. His lips widened into a sinister smile. He leered at his blue compatriot.

"I know what you _need_."

"Please enlighten me." Spike clapped his hands together and rubbed them in anticipation.

"You need some fun! We are going to out there, and have some fun! You're obviously not enjoying this party, and I'm not either, so lets get out there and paint the town red, blue!" Red blue? Damn, gotta think before I speak. "Besides, I could use some fresh air. It's getting really hot in here." Illyria quirked an eyebrow.

"What does it mean, paint the town red-blue?"

* * *

Spike and Illyria had travelled several blocks for the Hyperion, slipping out without drawing any notice from the gang. At Spikes suggestion, Illyria had shifted to the Burkle persona, now looking exactly like Fred, the thin, bony and beautiful human she had taken the body of. She wore a simple blue dress and a wine coloured shirt over it. Spike sauntered forward, Illyria a few steps behind.

Spike stopped in front of an old car. He looked around to check for people, and on seeing the street deserted, he raised his elbow and smashed the window of the passenger seat with it. He opened the door and hopped in, motioning for Illyria to follow him. She slid in after him, resting on the seat, and closed the door behind her.

"What are we doing?" she asked.

"We're going for a little joyride," he muffled front under the steering wheel, where he was busily hotwiring the car.

"A joyride? What is a joyride?" Spike cheered when the car hummed to life, coming up from the floor and putting his hands on the wheel.

"Just watch, and en_joy _the ride!" He put the pedal to the metal and the car screeched away from the kerb. Illyria was pressed into the back of the seat by the sudden acceleration, then by Spike's forearm as he pressed the half empty bottle of whisky against her, urging her to take it.

They sped down the night time streets of LA at ninety miles an hour, as fast as the car could go, _on the wrong side of the street_, ignoring traffic lights, and frequently swerving to avoid the odd car that happened to be out. Spike pulled a hard left, skidding violently, causing the rear of the car to fishtail, before shooting off in a new direction. Illyria was jerked about inside the car, some whisky escaping the bottle and splashing her all down her front.

"You are getting me wet!" she stated, annoyed. Spike sniggered.

"That's what all the birds say. Maybe if you drank more, there'd be less of the stuff to get splashed with?" suggested Spike. Illyria looked once at the bottle, agreeing. She brought the whisky to her lips and knocked back the entire contents, throwing it aside and wiping her mouth. "So, you having fun yet?" Spike inquired.

"No. You are merely making me nervous. You are reckless. You will get us-"

"What? Killed? We've both already died!" Illyria sealed her lips. He would just twist any complaint she had against him into an annoying joke. "Not fun yet? How. About. Now?" he yelled as he jerked the car left, knocking a parked police car, which instantly turned its lights on and started a pursuit. Illyria looked behind them.

"It's following!" Spike shouted in triumph, a twisted smirk on his face.

"Now we're gettin' somewhere!"

Spike led the police on a wild chase for well over an hour in a pursuit that led them to Beverly Hills, managing to attract well over eight police cruisers. The terrible weather meant it wasn't suitable for a helicopter, but had the weather had been nice there certainly would have been several of them. Spike used his superior vampire sight and reflexes to stay one step ahead of them at all times. At one point, he swore he could see Illyria clutching the dashboard so hard her knuckles were going white. The chase ended when Spike drove the car off an overpass, leaving the cruisers unable to pursue. That had totalled it…He and Illyria escaped the car moments before it exploded, and ran for cover.

After running for five full minutes, they came to a petrol station. It was closed, but the overhead roof meant shelter. "So wha'd you think of that, then?" asked a dripping wet Spike. Illyria was also soaked to the bone, and was panting from their exploits.

"That was…exhilarating!" she huffed, wiping her straggly brown hair from her face.

"So, you have fun?" Illyria didn't reply for several moments, pausing to catch her breath. Slowly, a small smile played at her lips, not the smirks she sometimes had, but a real smile.

"I think I did."

* * *

Illyria and Spike walked through the doors of the Hyperion at around three thirty in the morning, to be confronted with a very, very strange sight. Even Illyria looked unsure of what to make of it. She turned her head to Spike.

"Are they attempting to procreate?" she asked, genuinely not sure. Spike just looked weirded out.

"I don't…think…what the bloody hell is going on here!" Spike asked loudly, drawing attention to himself.

"Spell!" came the unanimous response. Spike looked at them all for one moment longer, then but into a fit of roaring laughter. All the humans in the building were in their underwear, sweating like pigs, including Buffy, who sat in the corner, wrapping herself around a half-melted ice pack.

"Well this is a Kodak moment for certain!" Spike jeered. "It just wouldn't be a scoobie party without some spell mucking everything up, getting us stuck in the building or...or..." he collapsed into laughter once more.

"Or raising the dead," supplied Xander exhaustedly.

"Or vampires trying to turn me," spotted Dawn.

"Or Angel going evil," quipped Buffy.

"Or me looking rather stupid," said Giles. Spike managed to get his hysterical laughs under control.

"So what is it this time? A spell that makes clothes disappear? Or summons a demon that eats clothes?" Willow shook her head. She was lying flat out on the floor, trying to press as much of herself as she could into the cold marble floor.

"It was my heat spell. Things kept getting hotter and hotter. Then it spread to the others. It was really far too hot be wearing much of anything, so we kinda...stripped. I don't even want to be wearing these," she said, motioning to her bra and panties, "but I'm not drunk enough to take those off yet."

"If you want I could break into the shop and get more booze?" Spike offered nonchalantly. Willow rolled her eyes.

"You wish." Spike turned his attention to Buffy.

"What about you? You drunk enough?" Buffy threw him a dirty look.

"I'm sober, Spike. But Willow's right, it's way too hot to be wearing anything at all. Anyway," she continued objectively. "Now that Illyria's here, we can try again, right?" Giles, who was wearing only white and blue striped boxers, nodded, relief clearly evident.

"What could she do?" asked Spike.

"The only way to stop the spell is to destroy the pendant," Willow explained. "Unfortunately, it's immune to magical attempts. It's also made of pretty strong stuff; so strong Buffy couldn't break it. We're hoping Illyria has the strength to do it." She sat up and tossed the pendant of Pyrexia to Illyria, who smirked at it.

"Of course I can." Holding it in one palm, she punched it with her other hand, snapping it in half. Instantly the spell broke, and the Scoobies felt the heat melting from them, replaced with the cool, moderate temperature they had all missed so much.

"Hip hip horray for Illyria!" praised Xander. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going for a shower!" he said, placing emphasis of the shower part. Gathering his clothes, he tip toed up the stairs, the cold marble floor suddenly feeling frozen. The others shared similar sentiments. Gunn and David elected to stay at the hotel until the morning. They all gathered their things and went to bed after an exhausting night. As Dawn walked up the stairs, Spike leered at her, gaining a cough and a glare from Buffy.

Soon, they were the only ones left in the lobby. When all was silent, they turned to face each other. "All of a sudden I feel horribly overdressed," said Spike, gazing at Buffy's nearly naked form. Black bra and panties. Sexy. She crossed her arms. Spike seeing her in her underwear didn't bother her at all. After all, he had seen her in much less. It was odd though, feeling so comfortable, knowing that he was probably imagining having sex with her as they stood.

"Spike, I want to apologise for before. I was being a tease, and I shouldn't do that to you." He was touched. No, really. There was one slight problem though.

"You mean like you're doing right now?" Buffy smiled softly at him.

"Are you complaining?" she teased. Spike shook his vigorously, making Buffy giggle. "Didn't think so. Now, I'm going to put my clothes back on. Then I'm going for a shower. Then bed, and much needed sleep.

"If you're going to get even nakeder than you are now, why bother with the clothes?" Spike reasoned. "Unless you plan to shower wearing your jeans?" Buffy could see his logic. But she was starting to get a little cold. She wouldn't tell Spike that; he would never stop offering to warm her up, despite the fact he had no body heat.

"Goodnight Spike," she said sternly, grabbing her clothes and heading to her room. He began to follow her, but she turned around and said, "Stay!" He remained for several minutes, eventually heading back to his room.

* * *

Angel inhaled deeply, savouring the cool smells of the forested area he was now riding through. Having arrived in Bucharest several hours earlier, he was now en route to Walachia, the place the Kalderash gypsies held to be their home. It was night, the moon high over head. Only horse and cart was available, much to his annoyance. It was one of the things he dislike about Eastern Europe; always with the horse and cart. Ever heard of a car? He was trying to think of what he was going to say to the gypsies when he found them. They were probably still pretty mad, especially since he had killed two more of them in the last decade. Oh well. He had to hope. Letting out the breath he took, he continued on.

* * *

Hope you enjoy. But come on people, review! Whadaya think? 


	4. Getting Back To Normal

As Angel walked, incredible feelings of anxiousness welled up inside him. Through the almost total darkness of the woods he could see a campfire set in the middle of circle of wagons. The very gypsies that had cursed him in 1898 were only thirty seconds away. Some of the people in the circle were already pointing at him as he came closer. He wondered if they even knew who he was.

He timidly entered the circle in the most non-threatening manner possible. The music and conversation stopped as several dozen eyes turned to him. He sucked in a breath. He'd spend a hundred years running from this place, and now he was seeking them out. He didn't even speak Romany. The only hope was that one of them spoke English. Clinging to that thing which had brought him there in the first place, hope, he introduced himself.

----

It had been two weeks since Willow's spell had gone awry. The gang got over it pretty quickly. They all remembered getting almost naked in front of one another, but weren't terribly bothered by it. Honestly, more embarrassing things had happened at one point or another, and besides, they all felt that the temperature fully justified the action.

During those two weeks, the various members of the group had made several life changing decisions. They had all sat down, including Illyria and Spike, and discussed the future. The summer would be over in a month, and summer being the traditional time to make new things happen, several items had been decided upon.

Giles was going to step up the re-construction of the council. He contacted the other watchers and informed them of the new situation. Suffice to say, they were all exuberant about the billion dollars headed their way. Plans were under way to find and train more watchers and more slayers. The new council was to bigger and better than the old one. There was a slight problem though. As head of the council, his efforts would be needed at the HQ. The thing was, there was no HQ. All there was were about three hundred watchers and a few regional outposts, spread across the whole world. Giles elected to make the Hyperion hotel a temporary headquarters, as it was the place where he felt new slayers would feel the most comfortable coming to from all over the world. After all, who wouldn't want to come to Hollywood?

To facilitate its new role as global HQ, the hotel was being extensively renovated. Gunn and Buffy had agreed to act on Angel's behalf, signing documents and directing the work. Every day, a whole team of builders, carpenters and plasterers came in and fixed something that needed fixing. The place was a mess now, with paint, dust and white sheets everywhere, but it was soon to look brand new.

Xander, who had absolutely nowhere else to be, decided to dive into his new job as watcher with immense fervour, and not by renovating and Spike had suggested. He was even busier than Giles. He sometimes directed the accountants that David had lent them, helping to guide them in distributing the councils' funds. He was shocked at how fast the money slipped away. Now that the council had global interests instead of just a single slayer, he realised the need for a heavy presence in every corner of the globe. Two weeks in, and they had already spent a hundred million. Of course, most of that was on one time expenses, like premises, but he realised that if the council were to reach it's full potential they'd have to spend nearly three hundred million dollars every year. It boggled the mind.

With Xander not going anywhere for the foreseeable future, Willow had decided to stay too. She had heard of a school of magic in Los Angeles, a place that would teach her to specialise in a particular field of magic (for a fee). She wasn't sure what type she was going to major in, but she was leaning towards mystical enchantment. Not that attack magic didn't have its ups; she just thought something a little less violent would suit her better. She wanted to play a role in the council, but she was growing ever more fascinated by the world of magic, one she was slowly realising was larger than she had ever dreamed.

Dawn was eighteen now, and had one more year of high school to go. She expressed a wish to remain in LA, saying she didn't like Italy. She wanted to stay because she felt it was her home. She had lived here before the move to Sunnydale, she said. She had even looked up some old friends, and they had met up, their friendship instantly revived. She hadn't any friends in Rome, mainly because she didn't speak Italian. Buffy had relented, not really having anything in Rome either. It had been a nice experience, but California was her home and she had missed it.

So Buffy decided to stay, even looking up collages to enrole in. Now that there were other slayers, she could get on with her life. She wasn't a fool: she knew there'd always be evil afoot, waiting to be slain, but from now on she wasn't going to waste her life seeking it out. Of course, being fully dependant of the council until she could get a job meant that she was at Giles' mercy. For now, he suggested she stay at the hotel, something she didn't mind for the immediate future, but didn't know if she could handle when Angel got back. She was looking into student accommodation to remedy that situation.

Spike…well, he was never going to be far from Buffy. He had forgotten how good it felt to be near her, even if he couldn't have her. He swore he'd never be separated from her for so long again. He continued to hang around with her, hoping that she would dump Angel and go with him, but he understood why that was so hard for her to do. She would give him an answer. She was just waiting for Angel to get back was all. Guess she had to sort out stuff with him first, before she realised she and Spike were meant to be together.

Illyria had taken to doing some strange things. Every day at seven in the morning she would 'dress up' as Fred and leave, not returning until well after ten in the evening. She refused to say where she went or what she was doing. Well, she couldn't conceal it forever, whatever it was that she was up to.

* * *

Buffy and Willow were walking around the campus of university collage Los Angeles. It was a bright summer afternoon. Although the main semesters were over, students were still numerous, many of them doing summer classes to catch up where they had fallen behind, while others were working on their PhD's, doing their own research, independent of any classes. Buffy was there for an interview with the Dean.

"So Will, what's it like being back on a real campus?" inquired Buffy thoughtfully.

Willow grinned excitedly. "It's nostalgic! I mean, I know I was really bored with psychology by the end, but the experience was worth it."

"But doesn't it sorta annoy you that you spent four years earning a degree you'll never use?" asked Buffy curiously. Willow gave a short nod, a thoughtful expression on her features.

"I guess I could have picked a better degree, but it doesn't really bother me. I'd prefer to live in the now. And I do use it! All the time, in social situations. You know, I analyse people, that sorta stuff. But all the same, I'm really excited about going to magic school. It's actually really big, I hear. It's the only one on the west coast. Apparently it's just like university, only with magic."

"Oh. So, what? It's like Hogwarts or something?" Willow rolled her eyes, pfting.

"As if. I mean, ok yeah, it's magically hidden, but other than that? Nah. Nowhere near as cartoony, and I'm wagering if something bad happened, something bad would happen; no magic potion or spell to make it all better. It's a serious place for serious people, Buffy, which is good, cause I'm a serious witch." Buffy got an image of Willow dressed in a cape and black hat flying around on a broomstick, and decided not to bring it up in conversation, knowing how offended Willow got by sterotyping.

They moved inside from the walkway, entering a long corridor with offices on either side, the doors being spaced every few metres. They were in the administrative section now, having left behind the lecture halls and leisure buildings. The dean's office was at the end of the wide corridor. Buffy eyed it in anticipation. Her heart was beating a little harder than usual. She walked to it, Willow following, and knocked. She could hear a shuffling and some mumbling behind the door, which opened to leave the dean of the collage standing, an old bald guy with a white beard and a reasonably nice suit.

"You must be Buffy? Please come in, I've been expecting you," he said in a friendly manner, moving aside to hold the door open for Buffy. She looked at Willow with a dash of fear in her eyes.

"I'll be waiting for you in the cafeteria Buffy," said Willow, giving Buffy a sympathetic smile. Buffy entered the room and sat down in a chair in front of the dean's desk, at his invitation. He shut the door and sat behind his desk. After a quick introduction and an overview of the school, he got down to business, asking question relating to enrolment.

"Now, you are applying as a mature student?" Buffy gulped. She hated that label. She nodded. "Ok, where did you attend High School?"

"Sunnydale." His brow shot up at the name.

"Ah yes. In that case, I take it most of your school records were destroyed in the quake?" She nodded, smiling. "That's ok, we'll work around that. Have you had any previous higher education?"

"W-well there was UC Sunnydale. I was there for five semesters. I…had to drop out because my mother died. And after that I was working for a few years. Shortly after Sunnydale was destroyed I moved to Rome and took some night classes in a small collage."

"Rome?" he echoed, clearly intrigued. "I've been. Magnificent city. What brought you there?" Good question. What had brought her there?

"A couple of factors. Mostly it was just me drifting. But the drifty Buffy is gone. I'm…settling down here," she said. He smiled at her and nodded his head understandingly.

"Ok Buffy. Now, have you thought about what you want to do? What did you do before?" he asked. Her face fell.

"I…hadn't really thought about that much. I was doing psychology before, but it's not for me. I was hoping to do something were I could help people?" she explained. He seemed pleased by her desire to help people.

"Well, there are many fields that involve helping people. There's medicine, science, nursing, law…the list goes on. The truth is though, you can help people no matter what you do."

"Nursing?" Buffy got a flash of her dressed in a tight PVC nurses outfit, complete with a cap with a red cross on it, grinning mischievously as she brandished an oversized syringe. Shaking the disturbing image from her head, she dismissed the idea. "Nah. Not my cup of tea. I like helping people, not watching them die because I couldn't help them…what about…law? I could help people in trouble with the law? I could…do civil law!" she said, jumping at the idea. "I could make absentee fathers pay their child support, so that the mothers don't have such a hard time with the kids!" The dean nodded.

"Law would suit you, I think. You'd look good in formal wear. Our university offers a comprehensive four year course, which covers both civil, criminal and international law."

"Four years?" Buffy queried despairingly. She was looking for something a bit shorter. In four years time she'd be two years away from being thirty. Not thirty, she scolded herself. Twenty-ten.

"Too long? We also have a two-year course that blends law and politics. You could be a politician?" A grin spread across her face as she imagined herself being elected president. Way better than the nurse. She'd be president of the United States, no wait, the world, with all the pomp and ceremony that went with it. Smiling dreamily, she urged him to go on.

"Tell me more."

* * *

"So, how'd it go?" asked Willow in anticipation. Buffy tried to conceal her mirth, failing miserably. They were walking through the campus, on their way to the car park so they could leave, Buffy's business now concluded.

"I got in!" Buffy exclaimed, nearly jumping with glee. Willow pulled her into a congratulatory hug, patting her on the back and squeezing reassuringly. They broke apart, each smiling broadly.

"That's wonderful Buffy! So, what course did you decide on?" Willow asked impatiently.

"'Politics and Law'. I wanted to do something to help people…"

"And you chose to be a politician?" Willow irked. "You must be loosing your mind in your old age! All they do is hold meetings and sign documents." Buffy became a bit mellower, the grin fading into a soft smile.

"Seems that way, doesn't it? But It worked for Angel. I was thinking about it, and if I got elected, I could do a world of good. He was right, if you wanna change something, you gotta aim high, you know? I'm not saying I can make vampires go away, but there's a lot of human injustice in the world! Wars, and rich people not being taxed while poor people go without vital medicines! I really want to help. Besides…it's sooo…"

"Exciting?" Willow supplied. Buffy shook her head as though exciting were the last word she'd use.

"Normal." Ah. Now Willow understood. Buffy really wanted to try and lead a normal life; that much had always been evident. Now, after years and years of dreaming, the prospect was right around the corner.

"It would be pretty cool Buffy. I know you've always fantasised about this. It must be like a dream come true!" Willow commented, happy for Buffy.

"You're not wrong. I know I'll never be totally normal, but even if I was three times weirder than a normal person, it'd be much more normal than I am now," she said, laughing half way through the sentence. "But speaking of normal life styles, I see you're wholly embracing the darker side of life," Buffy observed jokingly, referring to Willow's enrolment in magic school. Willow nodded knowingly.

"Yeah. I love magic; I find it all so fascinating. As well, when I use it, I feel connected to everything, almost like I'm a part of it all. With magic, I feel I can help people too. I mean, provided I'm not trying to kill them of course..." commented Willow, making Buffy chuckle. "When I use magic, its like there's this buzz, like everything is more than it is. I feel the essence of life itself as though it were an emotion like happiness or contentment. You know?" Buffy just looked kind of mystified. "Of course you couldn't, unless you used magic, and no offence Buffy, but I don't think magic is your strong point."

"I agree. I think my strong point is probably shoving sharp things into fleshy things," Buffy agreed, wagging her eyebrows. "So, you all prepped for magic collage?"

"Yeah!" Willow said eagerly. "I'm all enrolled. I still have to decide on my field of study, but I don't have to make up my mind until the first day. What's gonna happen is they'll do an assessment of my strengths and weaknesses, then they'll recommend something."

"A test?" Buffy inquired. Willow nodded, rolling her eyes.

"I hear it's something stupid like how many pencils you can float. A lot of the applicants are big time rookies. It's called a collage, but it has some students as young as ten! They'd mostly be from families of magic users, though the average age is more mid-twenties. What happens in a lot of cases is people get into magic in university and want to learn more after they finish. I'll probably be one of the only really experienced witches there."

"Are you sure you can gain much from this? You're probably better than all the teachers," questioned Buffy sceptically.

"First off, I doubt that. Some of the teachers are demons with hundreds of years of experience. Second off…I'm gonna try an analogy here. Anybody can build a skyscraper, if they're rich enough. They can say, I want it modern looking, and I want it over there. That's me. Only a highly qualified engineer can actually design it, you know, make sure it stays standing. That's the teachers. They'll show me how to wield magic at a micro level that I have almost no understanding of. Pretty cool, huh? I'll be selectively altering the fabric of reality in no time." Buffy became mildly alarmed at the revelation, imagining so many ways it could go wrong. And with Willow's record or spells going wrong? Seeing Buffy's unease, Willow tried to put her mind to rest. "But only in a good, responsible way. Don't worry, my days of changing the memories of my friends are over." This seemed to pacify Buffy, and they were silent for a few moments as they walked on, taking in the sights.

"So…" began Willow tentatively. She was going to bring up something that had made her concerned for her friends well being. "How are you coping? With Angel and Spike? Any developments on the man front?" Buffy braced herself for a difficult conversation. She needed to talk about it though, and Willow was the only person she felt comfortable talking to about it.

"Well…Angel's not being here isn't getting any easier. I mean, I don't even know what he's doing! I doubt he's in danger, but…it just…stings? It stings that he up and left. I'm starting to think he saw Spike and I kissing-"

"-You were kissing Spike?" interrupted Willow excitedly. "So, are you two…?" Before Buffy had a chance to do anything more than shake her head, Willow continued. "But what about Angel? So that's why he left? And-"

"No!" said Buffy loudly, bringing Willow's blabbering to a halt. Willow shut up with an apologetic look. "No. I mean, I suppose it was fare game. Spike did see me kissing Angel-" Buffy admitted, being interrupted by Willow, who now had a mischievous grin.

"Both of them? Jeeze Buffy, you're becoming a great big slut! All you need now is dark lipstick and leather pants!" Buffy looked down, mock embarrassment in the action.

"I have leather pants," she admitted. "I was wearing them two nights ago." Willow gaped at her, pretending to be disgusted.

"God, you're basically a blonde Faith! Next thing you know you'll be screwing-"

"Do not finish that sentence!" warned Buffy, trying to sound serious, but with a grin playing on one side of her mouth. Willow pressed her lips together pointedly, postponing what she was going to say for dramatic effect.

"People. Who shall remain unnamed, but who are both tall, pale and allergic to sunlight." Buffy sighed exasperatedly. Willow giggled. Buffy had gotten off easily; Willow had been planning to say something much friskier.

"And how about you Will? Screwing anybody lately?" asked Buffy in revenge.

"Nope. Not since Kennedy," she said simply, not going to take any bait. "But this isn't about me, it's about you," she reminded, sobering the situation. Fun as the jokes had been, they still had serious things to help each other with. Or more like Buffy had serious things Willow wanted to help with. They reached the car, Angel's black convertible. He'd left the keys, and Buffy didn't think he'd mind her using it. Besides, it had been sitting around in disuse since Angel had gained access to a host of very cool sports cars while working at Wolfram and Hart. She had though of taking his Viper, but it was a bit too high profile for her tastes. They got in, Buffy in the driver's seat, Willow in the passanger's. "How do you feel about them? Who do you love more?" Now that was a difficult question…

Angel was her first love. She would die for him. At one point, years ago, before they broke up, she'd considered him her soul mate. She had fantasised about marrying him so many times…every day, she thought about what life with him would be like. Every day, she missed him. She missed the comfort he provided her. She missed the feeling of safety. She missed...everything. When they were near, her heart ached. She wanted nothing more than to run to his arms and let him take her right there. She was also pained by the fact that he couldn't, and possibly never could.

Spike? He was different. She had never considered him a soul mate, but had grown to love him intensely, but in a different way. He was a pillar of strength for her. During her darkest times, he stood by her. His words of kindness and comfort had meant the world to her. When he died, she cried for him. Even when she wasn't overcome by the grief, she cried with her heart. Odd as it seemed, she had fallen more in love with him after his death, during which time she had come to realise all he had been to her. When she had seen him standing in the lobby of the Hyperion, looking exactly the same as always, her heart had skipped a beat. For almost a full minute, they had just stared at each other. She was making sure he wasn't a ghost or a figment of her imagination. She could sense him, she could hear his breathing. When she had been sure it was him, she'd thrown herself at him. She chuckled sadly when she remembered the next thing she'd done was hit him. Always with the violence.

"I don't know," she said in answer to Willows question. After a pause, "I don't know," she repeated. "I love…they're both so important to me. I don't love them the same way, but neither way is inferior to the other." Emotions raged inside Buffy. She was facing a question she didn't want to confront: the idea that she would have to choose. She'd been able to ignore it until recently, but now that she was living so close to both of them…she knew Angel would be back soon, and the fact that his belongings were all around her in the hotel didn't make matters easier. "And they're going to ask me to choose between them; they hate each other! It hurts me that they hate each other," she realised aloud, narrowing her eyes. "And…I can't choose. It would kill me Will!" she said desperately. Buffy's eyes began to glisten with unshed tears as she gazed forlornly at the steering wheel. "How can I look either one of them in the eye and reject him?" she asked, searching herself for an answer. She turned to look at Willow, the force of the move causing one of the tears to trail down her cheek. "I-I don't want to choose Will! I couldn't choose! If I did, I'd never be able to stop thinking about the one I rejected!" Willow embraced Buffy in a strong hug, supporting her emotionally.

"It's a hard choice Buffy, but I'm sure it will all work out in the end!" Willow consoled, though truth be told, she couldn't see how the situation could be resolved with all parties satisfied. Buffy pulled away, wiping her tears.

"I wish...we could just…you know...the three of us?" Buffy sniffed. "It would mean I wouldn't have to reject either of them!" she hoped pleadingly, her face falling a second after saying it. "But they can't stand each other…that would make me happy, but then they'd both be miserable. I mean, Angel loves me so completely that it would kill him, and Spike is so possessive he'd never tolerate it!" Willow smiled sadly at her friend.

"Plus there's the whole thing about Angelus always having Drusilla's favour. Spike's pretty bitter over that." Buffy gave Willow a sad appreciative smile. The comic relief was much needed.

"Thanks Will. I really needed to talk about this with someone who isn't my mirror."

"You're welcome. I mean, what are friends for?" Buffy started the car. "Oh, one thing though." Buffy didn't speak, partially waiting for Willow to finish, but also because she was busy reversing out of the space. "You've just proved pretty much conclusively you're a meat guzzling, threesome loving slut!" she chirped, causing Buffy to falter and nearly hit a passing car.

* * *

It was early evening, the sun just starting to set, but without a watch the time of day was impossible to discern from within the corridors of the Hyperion hotel. The hotel was mostly empty. Xander was at a doctors appointment about his eye, Illyria was nowhere to be seen, and the builders had all gone home an hour before. Willow, Dawn and Giles were socialising in the lobby.

Buffy was looking for Spike. Her slayer sense told her that he was in the hotel somewhere, and her brain reasoned the most likely place was his room. She came to it and knocked timidly on the door, nervous about what was about to transpire. "Come in," came his voice. She entered the room. It was totally dark but for a reading light dimly illuminating its nearby sorroundings, wooden shutters and heavy curtains blocking out all light from the windows. "Buffy," he said when he saw her. She closed the door behind her softly.

"Hi Spike." He waited a few seconds for more, raising an eyebrow when none followed.

"Uh…hi," he replied, unsure what to make of her visit. "Can I help you with something?"

She approached his position. He was lying on his bed, holding a book, much to Buffy's near amazement. She didn't think he ever read. "No. I just came by to talk," she said, making Spike suspicious. The only time she ever came around to talk was either to beat him up for information or to have sex with him, and somehow he didn't think it would be the latter this time.

"To talk?" he asked, eyebrow arched.

"Yeah," she confirmed. "About us." Spike stared at her for a second, his heart suddenly in his throat. He closed his book and set it aside.

"What is it?" he asked tentatively. She shuffled over to him and sat down on the bed beside him, electing to remain sitting up. After being silent for some time, trying to form words but not quite managing to, she decided to try something to break the ice.

"Tell me you love me." She looked him deeply in the eyes. Spike hesitated for a moment, not understanding why she asked him to, but said it anyway.

"I love you. You know that." When he said it, her heart swelled with happiness. She knew it was true, but having him say it made it even more real to her.

"I love you too." When she said that, Spike grew a very strange expression that bordered on shock, hope and amazement. She wanted, needed to get comfortable with saying that. She was comfortable saying it to Angel, and she saw no reason why she shouldn't with Spike. "I want you to know that. I want you to know that I meant it when I said it in the hellmouth. I want you to know that I'm not repulsed by you, and that I'm not afraid to say it. I've fallen in love with you, Spike." His gaze darted back and forth between her eyes.

"Buffy-" he said, awestruck. She took hold of one of his hands in hers, squeezing it gently. The look of love her gave her made Buffy almost not say the next thing, because she could hardly stand wrecking it.

"But I can't be with you." From the look on his face, one could have sworn his heart had just been wrenched from his chest. He gritted his teeth and looked away, anger building up inside him.

"Angel. You've decided you'd rather be with him," he concluded bitterly. Buffy shook her head frantically.

"No, no I haven't." Spike looked confused. "Spike, I love you so much that I can't imagine life without you. Right now…I want...I wish we could be together…but…"

"Angel," Spike repeated darkly. Buffy relented, nodding her head.

"Yeah. I love him too. I can't just…I can't be with you. But I can't be with him. I don't want to hurt either of you." Spike turned back to her, staring disbelievingly.

"I hate to break it to you love, but dumping both of us is going to please no one," he said slowly, pronouncing every syllable. Buffy sighed, exasperated.

"That's not what I meant…look, what I mean for now is…I want us to be…close?" she said, inferring to Spike that she didn't want to take it too far.

"How close?" he asked. She spent a second gathering her bravery. She wasn't sure if he was angry with her or not.

"Close. Like this?" She climbed onto the bed, lying down beside him, snuggling up to him, wrapping an arm around his abdomen. She carefully rested her head against his shoulder. After a moment of being rigid, Spike relaxed and pulled Buffy closer. "I want to be with you, and I don't think I could stand to be away for you, not even being able to touch you? But I need to wait. I need to not...with you."

"I get what you mean, pet. And…much as it pains me to say it, I realise you've got stuff you need sort out with the poof. I can accept this degree of closeness. It's a damn sight closer than what we had when the Atlantic Ocean and about three thousand miles of land was separating us; namely nothing. It'll be grand. When he comes back, you two talk, work out your differences, then you'll be free to be with me," he said in a serious tone, though he knew it wouldn't be that simple. Buffy didn't say anything in reply. They just entered a very long silence that eventually saw Buffy falling asleep. Spike spent hours just holding her, enjoying every second of it.

* * *

Angel sat inside one of the caravans that formed the circle around the campfire outside. He had come up against a problem that was both unforeseen and unlikely. Nadezhda was the name of the woman who lay in front of him, all of her body hidden under the colourful hand woven bed covers. She was the clan elder, and the only one who had known at first sight who he was. She had very worn skin, her face wrinkled almost beyond recognition. She was a hundred and thirteen. From the woods where she had been hiding, she watched Spike, Darla and Drusilla massacre her people when she was only six years old. Drawing in a difficult breath, she spoke. Her pace was very slow, and her tone deep and broken.

"Why should we restore you?" Her voice contained no malice, which surprised Angel. It was just a question. A simple question, one that asked more than he thought a question so simple could.

"There's someone in my life now. Someone who deserves happiness. And…I can't give it to her, because when I get too close…" he trailed off. The ancient woman just stared at him, her gaze compelling him to continue. "And humanity at large deserves to be safe from the demon. As I'm sure you know, several years ago I lost my soul. Innocent people died because of it. I want to make sure that can never happen again." The woman blinked slowly.

"If you ended your life, humanity would be safe." Damn. He figured she was going to say that at some point.

"They would be safe from me, but then they'd have no one to protect them." The woman chuckled, the laugh turning into a deep cough almost instantly. She was dying, Angel could tell. He wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing from the getting his soul back perspective.

"What about the slayers? What about the forces of good that battle evil every day?" she weakly questioned. How'd she know about that? Although that was a good point…now that there were thousands of slayers, he seemed relatively insignificant. He felt like he was loosing this battle.

"The work they do is wonderful," he began. "But I do the powers' work. _I_ am their champion." That sounded really egoistical to him. She squinted at him, scrutinising him closely.

"It seems to me that your work for the powers is done." His gaze became distant as he became lost in though.

"How could you possibly know that?"

"I don't know it. But you do." He realised what she was doing. She was able to read his aura. She was telling him how _he_ felt. And she was right. He had done what the Powers That Be had wanted. He brought down Wolfram and Hart's ultimate apocalypse. Using a vision they had sent, no less. And now he was a free agent. But he hadn't gotten his reward…Despair overcame him. He had signed it away when he joined the Circle of the Black thorn. They laid the prophecy that said he would become human out before him, and he signed it away for the greater good.

Was that what it meant to be a hero? Refusing the reward? Yes, it seemed. Even the fact that Spike didn't get it instead of him was no consolation. So what was he going to do now? No purpose, no calling. No hope. He had lost all hope of having the curse removed. He'd been alive for a long time, and he knew people, and he knew this woman was going to refuse him.

He thought of Buffy. He despaired that he would never be with her. She was the thing that mattered most to him in the whole universe. But she'd probably end up with Spike. It ate away at him. He didn't think he could bare it, Spike having her, with no hope he'd ever be able to. It was made worse by the curse. If he had a fair chance, it would be different. What irked him the most was that he had lost before he even begun, never having a chance. A dark thought passed through his mind. He could stake himself. It didn't seem like a bad idea. It appealed to him far more than the Buffy/Spike situation.

Just when he thought he couldn't feel any worse, something hit him with immense force, knocking him over. He shouted in agony, a searing pain coursing through his mind. In ripped through him like a stroke. Then, almost as soon as it began, it was over. The woman was certainly spooked. Panting, he pulled himself up, looking around in amazement. She looked at him, her eyes demanding an explanation. Breathlessly, he gave it.

"I…had a vision."


	5. The Awakening

A/N: Just to restate, the romantic pairing is an undefined Angel/Buffy/Spike triangle, and a triangle of equality it shall be.

Thanks for the reviews, especially the ones which examined the shortcomings of the story. I'm trying to strike a balance between not rushing the fic too much, but also not having it drag out for pointless reasons. If anyone feels it's too rushed, please tell me where and why you think it, so that I can avoid doing so in future.

* * *

Spike and Buffy sat together on a sofa in Buffy's room at the Hyperion. Spikes arm was draped casually around Buffy's shoulders, and Buffy rested her head against his chest. They had grown closer these last few weeks, since they'd had their talk. Spike respected Buffy's wish to not take it all the way, and in return he was able to be physically close to her on a nightly basis, sometimes even being lucky enough to get a soft kiss. Spike was in damn near bliss almost all the time. There was, however, that nagging certainty that Angel would bollocks everything up when he returned. They'd hadn't said anything else about Angel, but their silence communicated their worries effectively.

They had just finished watching a movie together, Pride and Prejudice, which Spike had bought on pirate DVD. Buffy had been deeply moved, but Spike was more sceptical. "Keira Knightly was totally unconvincing!" argued Spike. Buffy looked at him unbelievingly.

"Oh come on Spike, she took the role and made it her own!" Buffy protested. Spike shook his head dismissively.

"Look, I know this was set about sixty years before I was born, but trust me when I say people did not act like that back then. They were much stuffier. Imagine Giles, only times a million." Buffy's jaw almost dropped. Giles times a million? That would be like Quentin Travers times ten.

"Ok, you have me convinced," she relented. Spike squeezed her shoulder slightly, and they relaxed in silence, just watching the ending credits. Occasionally he'd glance at her out of the corner of his eye. He was so close to her, yet just far away enough so as not to have her. When the credits were over, he used the DVD remote to turn off the player, the television reverting to cable. The news came on after a few seconds of ads.

"Tonight on FOX news! Our top story, are vampires real?" Buffy shot up, as did Spike a moment later. Glancing at Spike apprehensively, she leaned forward and turned it up, resting her arms on her knees and then resting her chin on her folded hands. "We investigate a number of strange murders. Also, the theory of the multiverse, the idea that there may be more than one dimension, proven conclusively by theoretical physicist, Winifred Burkle!" A video of Fred smiling and waving in front of a crowd of reporters was shown. Oh nuts, Spike thought. This could not be good. What the hell was Illyria doing?

"Buffy. Get the others, _now_," Spike instructed with gritted teeth. Buffy didn't hesitate, running out the door, an action that would have surprised Spike if he'd been paying attention. Buffy was herself surprised that she'd take orders from him. Within minutes, Giles, Xander, Dawn and Willow were crowded around the television.

"Good lord," said an awe-struck Xander. Giles glared at him.

"That's my line...you'll be a bloody fine watcher yet," Giles mumbled. On the box, Illyria, who was dressed as Fred in a white lab coat, complete with glasses and a huge goofy grin, was standing at a podium in front of several microphones. Camera flashes went off several times a second. Before her, hundreds of people were paying rapt attention to her.

"Following up my previous work on super-symmetry extra dimensional vortexes, my new paper lays out all the quantum mathematics. I don't wanna bore 'yall, seeing as how probably none of you are physicists, so I'll get to the point. Essentially what my theory proves is that there are multiple dimensions. Several laboratories have experimentally verified the theory over the last week. In other words, we've created gateways to other worlds." The audience was enthralled as she went on to explain the quirks and nuances behind the theory.

"I guess she really did want to make an impression," commented Spike distantly, before shrugging the shock off. "Well, I don't see any harm in it. At least she's not trying to raise a demon army." Giles didn't look so sure. "Of course, the good part is yet to come, I'd wager." Buffy silently agreed, wondering exactly what Illyria was planning. No matter how hard she thought, she couldn't formulate a motive, proving to herself how little she actually knew about the blue god. After Illyria's coverage was concluded, the rest of the news was uneventful, right up until they came to the top story.

"And now for the one you've all been waiting for! Are vampires real?" Giles took off his glasses in shock. Xander and Willow exchanged worried glances. None of them had ever seen anything like this before. They didn't know what to make of it. "This lady here claims she was attacked by a vampire last week after leaving a nightclub with a man. He brought her to his car, where the alleged attack happened. Ma'am, why don't you tell us your story?" A young woman, no older than Buffy, began to talk of how she was attacked by a very strong man with a deformed face.

"But the strange thing is, his face hadn't been deformed before. It suddenly changed."

"And how did you escape?" asked the anchor.

"He had just bitten me on the neck," she pointed to two holes right over her jugular. "When he was pulled out of the car," she finished.

"Out of the door?" She shook her head.

"No, out of the roof. And it wasn't a convertible; It was an all terrain vehicle. Someone, using their bare hands, broke the roof, hoisted him out and literally ripped his head clean off his shoulders. He turned to dust! I have him right here!" she said, pulling out a zip-lock full of ashes. The anchor turned to the audience.

"Not a likely story, right? That's what we thought at first. So we went back to the parking lot where the alleged vampire attack happened, and retrieved the CCTV footage. We're going to play it back to you now. It will seem almost surreal, however we have it on good authority that this footage has not been tampered with. Roll the tape!" The scene switched to the parking lot. The low resolution, black and white image was none-the-less perfectly able to catch the struggle from the angle it was at. It was pointed directly at the front windshield from an overhead position. If you looked closely enough, you could even catch the change in the facial features as he vamped out and bit her. The camera caught a small form land on the roof of the car, seemingly from nowhere. It was Illyria. The eyes and leather body suit were unmistakeable. She tore the car open with the ease of opening a can of sardines, and hoisted the vampire out by the neck, decapitating him with ease. It was strange seeing vamps dusted on CCTV. It seemed more real. Illyria quickly made her exit. The tape ended, and the anchor's face came back on.

"Now, the broken car is still there. We rang up Toyota and asked them to find out how much force would be needed to do that to a car, and they told up you'd need the strength of ten men. By comparison, only world record body builders have this kind of strength." Giles switched the television off.

"It seems we have a problem," he said, stating the obvious. Buffy shook her head.

"I don't get it Giles, loads of people have seen vamps before. Why is it someone suddenly went on air about it?" Giles furrowed his brow.

"I don't know Buffy. I've never really thought about it," he admitted. "I'll look into it. Xander, you'll help."

"Yay! My first official job as watcher!" he exclaimed with exaggerated excitement.

"What should we do about Illyria?" asked a worried Willow. "I mean, should we just be letting her do that? Act human and all?" Spike glanced at her warningly, slightly offended.

"Yeah, of course you should! You let me go around, acting human. Why not her?"

"Because you don't bring attention to yourself!" Xander said. Spike pursed his lips, not accepting that as a good enough reason, but he wasn't about to argue with _Xander._

"What, bringing the pigs on a high speed chase all over LA in the middle of the night isn't high profile?" Spike argued, cocking his head.

"That was you?" quickly accused Buffy, eyes narrowing.

"Yeah. 'Sides…not like you guys could stop her if you tried. Pua-lease! At least if we support her, she'll stay here an' we can keep an eye on her."

"What is she trying to do, do you think?" Willow asked Spike. "Telling people about other dimensions? It almost seems kinda nefarious…" she pondered.

"She likes being worshiped," decided Spike aloud. "If she can make others envious, it'll remind her of the good ole days I 'spose. What 'bout you?" He asked Giles. "What do you think?"

"Quite frankly, I'm much more worried about the vampires," he answered distantly. "I've been thinking about it, and it doesn't make sense!"

"I'll say," remarked Buffy. Giles shook his head, an almost frightened look on his face: the kind of frightened you get when you realise you've lost something precious.

"Vampires have existed for longer than man, and yet most people have no idea vampires exist!" Giles stated.

"Hold up, Giles," Xander said. "Loads of people know about them! I mean, there are 'vampire' bars in New York that are attended exclusively by blood drinking humans! There are thousands of books and movies about vampires!"

"No. It's not like that at all…" Giles quietly disagreed, too lost in thought to put much effort into speaking. "Everybody's heard of vampires, and many people believe in them, but how many people actually _know for certain_ that vampires are real?" Giles challenged. When he put it that way…the others got what he was saying. It did suddenly seem strange that after thousands of years, vampires still managed to stay hidden. Giles turned to Spike, an inquisitive look besetting him.

"Spike, what do you make of this? You should have an insiders perspective." Spike nodded.

"It's definitely strange. Obviously, for starters, vampires never really tried to come into the proverbial light. Most people had never even heard of vampires until Dracula got famous, but even after that people never paid much attention," told Spike, shrugging. "Anyone who saw a vampire just rationalised it. I guess they didn't like what they saw and would rather have a safer explanation. I mean, look how many demon bars there in the world. You mean to tell me that no human ever sees them? No, they see them. They just either forget about them, or pass them off as a fetish club or a clown convention or some other whatnot. I mean, look at Xander's wedding! Circus folk my arse!" The group sat in a baffled silence for some time after Spike had said his piece, absorbing all his arguments. They all agreed that it did seem highly improbable that vampires had managed to stay hidden for so long. Buffy had a thought.

"Umm…this seemed insignificant at the time, but…a couple of weeks ago I was patrolling, and I came across this angry mob. They were burning down a vampire strip club, and not because they morally objected to the naked ladies. Has anything like that ever happened before?" she queried, looking at each member of the group in turn, a questioning expression on her face. They all shook their heads, not being able to remember a single instance of anything like that happening.

"I don't think it ever_ has_ happened," commented Spike. "And I should know."

"So what do we do now?" asked Willow, looking between Buffy and Giles.

"Well, I'll phone the other watchers, see what they make of this," said Giles. "Xander, you and Dawn look through the books and look for any mention of mass hysteria, demon crusades and whatever else you think is worth looking at."

"Spike and I will hit the demon bars. I'd say there're loads of them in this town," said Buffy as she put her leather jacket on. "Willow?"

"I'll keep an eye on the news and surf the Internet, see what I can find." The plans set, the gang quickly went about doing their tasks.

* * *

Buffy and Spike strode into a demon bar in mid-town LA. The presence of a slayer was instantly felt by all present, generating some frightened glances and uncomfortable shifting. The place was dark, as usual. It reminded her of Willie's place, only larger, with the cheap red leather seats and the neon signs lining the walls. "So, how shall we do this then?" Spike asked Buffy, looking over his shoulder at her.

"You do it your way, I do it mine," she said simply. Spike nodded and headed deeper into the bar, sitting down next to a vampire in one of the alcoves and striking up a conversation. Buffy sauntered over to the bar, taking up a seat next to another vampire. This one was young and nerdy, and was visibly shaking with fear. She ordered a shot of whisky for both of them. The demon bar tender set the shots before them, accepting payment.

"Wanna drink with me?" she asked. The vampire, who until now had been careful to avoid looking at Buffy, nervously craned his neck around to see her.

"O-ok," he mumbled.

"On three?" He nodded. "One, two, three!" On cue, they both knocked back their drinks, Buffy trying not to wince. She'd forgotten how strong whisky was.

"S-so…what brings a slayer to this neck of the woods?" he stuttered. Buffy looked at the ceiling, fingering her now empty glass absent-mindedly.

"Just had the urge to get in touch with my foes. Swap some notes. You know, that sorta thing. Wanna swap?" she asked sugar sweet. It unnerved the vampire.

"Sure! B-but first I think I need another drink. Barkeep! A quadruple shot of this stuff!" He downed the drink as soon as he got it, shivering as it went down. Buffy waited patiently. "Ok, so what can I help you with?" he asked politely with a bit more confidence. Buffy looked him up and down in an effort to rattle him some more, succeeding moderately.

"Two weeks ago an angry mob of humans burned down a joint like this one. They knew it was vampires. Now, I haven't been around as long as you, but that registers as strange in my book. What do you make of it?"

"Actually, I was born in 1984. I'm pretty sure you're older than me," he stated matter-of-factly. Buffy was taken aback by the statement, and nearly pouted. Great, now I'm old even compared to vampires! Twenty-four is not old!

"That's nice," she said sweetly. "But-"

"-Oh yeah, right. Ok…umm…well, I heard about it. I mean, who didn't? The guy in charge was a respected member of the vampire community. Heard he died in the fire. Tragic. Anyway, the very idea that humans would hunt _us_ is laughable. Or at least it is to the older ones. Or I should say, _was_"

"Older ones? Was?" Buffy inquired.

"You know, the elders; the masters?" he said, hardly believing that she didn't get his meaning. "They were shocked that it happened. They keep going on about it, saying things like 'nothing like this has ever happened before!'" he told animatedly, waving his hands around for dramatic effect. "A few days ago I met a three hundred year old master who was actually afraid. But us younger ones, the ones born in the 20th century, have seen it coming. I mean, sure, back in the day we could hide in the dark and not be seen, but I mean, hello? Have they looked outside? Electric lights have stolen the darkness they keep on moaning about. There are ten times as many humans today as there were two hundred years ago. And with security cameras and satellites? People were bound to notice! The old ones just don't appreciate how dangerous humanity is. They look at people and see food; livestock to be herded. I look at humans, and I see dangerous predators ready to stake me, or riddle me so full of bullets my head falls off. Or worse still, tie me up and do experiments on me to see how long it takes me to die, like the doctor in that movie Day of the Dead!"

"Never seen it," Buffy said. He looked at her empathetically.

"You should, it's really very good. Anyway, back to my point. I'm just amazed this didn't happen sooner. I mean, were you watching the news?" he asked, motioning to the television set that hung over the bar. Buffy nodded. "Scary stuff I tell ya! I mean, if humans ever started hunting us _en mass_, we'd be finished. So long as it was just you slayers, we could only die so quickly! Now…well, lets just say I'm starting to regret being turned."

"And do you know why people suddenly started noticing vampires?"

"No one knows for certain…but…." He looked around fearfully. "I'll tell you something valuable if you promise not to stake me."

"Ok. I promise I won't stake you." The vampire shook his head admonishingly.

"No, you gotta swear on your slayer honour."

"Huh?" He looked at her questioningly.

"Don't you have some kind of code? You know, a sacred code of ethics or some holy slayer thing?" Buffy shook her head slowly. "Oh. Well in that case…you know that law firm, Wolfram and Hart?" She nodded, knowing all too well what Wolfram and Hart was. Evil Giles had filled her in, and Good Giles confirmed that evil Giles hadn't been lying. "Well," he dropped to a whisper, leaning close to Buffy's ear. "Everyone in the underworld knows they're big into evil. Like, really big into it. Their offices collapsed a month or so ago, and some of the more magically inclined demons among us said they felt some kind of major mystical disturbance. People noticing us? It started happening around then. Nobody knows what to make of it, but only idiots would fail to see the connection between the big boss falling from grace and our new situation. There are now rumours that W and H were protecting us somehow, and that their new CEO, Angelus, of all vampires, managed to break the 'spell'. Everyone knows he kills his own kind, so I wouldn't put it past him to try something like this. He's psychotic I tell ya!" Buffy chuckled inwardly at the description of Angel.

They slipped into silence as Buffy contemplated what this could mean. As she was thinking, Spike came over with a grim expression on his face. "I got what we came for. You comin' pet?" Buffy said yes and got up. They left the establishment with ease. Buffy had expected the clientele wouldn't have let the slayer leave so easily. Spike explained to her that she was the legendary Sunnydale slayer.

"Legendary? Yeah right! I'm just a slayer. There've been plenty of 'em!" Spike rolled his eyes, scarcely believing her ignorance.

"Not just any slayer, pet, the greatest slayer of all. Think about it, you've killed thousands of vamps," he began proudly, counting on his fingers. "You even kick the ass of William the Bloody and Angelus. You beat an Old One re-incarnate, killed a god, and even trashed the armies of The First. Every hell spawn from here to Timbuktu is bleedin' terrified of you!" Buffy blushed. Not many girls would find a list of reasons why they're scary to be flattering, but she did. ""Cept me, of course. I was never scared of you." Buffy smiled knowingly.

"Of course Spike. I never doubted that for a moment. After all, you are the _big_ bad," she teased, mimicking the long defunct Buffybot, earning a smirk from Spike, on whom the joke was not lost. Spike daringly slung his arm around Buffy's shoulders, and to his genuine surprise she didn't shrug him off. He loved this. She was actually treating him as though they were together. It wasn't quite what he hoped it would soon be, namely shagging in every alleyway and public toilet they could find, but it was close. Public displays of anything other than hitting Spike were new and wonderful. Together, they headed back to the Hyperion.

* * *

The gang reconvened at the hotel and exchanged information. Buffy and Spike had the same stories, Buffy's the story of a young vampire, Spike's the story of a vampire just as old as he was. They pretty much confirmed what Willow had learned on the Internet. People seemed to notice not just vampires, but the strange things in the world. News was flooding in from all over the globe about supernatural happenings, magic, demon corpses lying around, weird animals and all other sorts. The talk was so widespread and heated it had even gotten the governments attention, with a press conference scheduled for the following day.

They were sitting around, discussing what to do next, when Illyria stormed in, an angry glare set in stone on her features. "I was just attacked by a pack of humans!" she explained testily, her tone suggesting that she was seeking an explanation.

"Dear lord…are you alright?" asked Giles, more concerned about the attack itself than with Illyria's wellbeing. After being told of the thrashing she had given Buffy when she had been possessed, he had no doubt in her ability to take on a few humans.

"Of course!" she snapped, insulted that he would ask her such a demeaning question.

"What happened?" asked Spike. Spike seemed to have a calming effect on her, as she relaxed her stance when he spoke to her. Her voice still rang of malice though.

"I was on my way here from a press conference and I dropped something I was carrying. It rolled under a car, so I lifted the car up to get it out from underneath. Suddenly a gang of youths with large wooden bats began to assault me!" She was clearly disgusted, quite understandably.

"You're obviously ok, but are they?" Buffy asked, concerned. Illyria was silent. Buffy's heart quickened. "What did you do to them?" she demanded with gritted teeth.

"I paid them back. Every blow with their bats, I returned. No more, no less." The gang glanced anxiously at each other.

"Did you kill them?" Buffy asked, deadly serious. Illyria looked to each of the gang in succession. She answered after a pointed silence.

"No. I merely broke their bones, tore their skin and crushed their marrow. Their bodies are so fragile…but they will live." They all looked at her, numbed by her admission. What was most shocking of all was that she didn't seem to care. Their perception of her was altered. They realised what she was capable of, and it frightened them. Until now, they had thought of her as a good guy on Angel's team, and therefore on their team. Suddenly they realised what she truly was: A wholly sovereign being who was only loosely connected to them, and in no way subservient.

"That's…monstrous!" exclaimed a shocked Buffy.

"Why?" Illyria inquired. "It was an unprovoked attack. I have no doubt they fully intended to kill me. If anything, what I did to them in retribution was merciful. In my time, I would have annihilated the entire race for a similar transgression."

"Yeah? Well this is my time, and you do not hurt people here!" ordered Buffy.

"I will do as I choose!" Illyria stated. It wasn't meant to be a wish, desire or a threat: it was stated as a fact. Buffy took a hostile stance.

"Then you're a monster!" Before Buffy knew it, she was being slammed up against a wall, Illyria holding her off the ground by her neck.

"I could break you in half right now and not shed a tear!" shouted Illyria. She dropped Buffy to the ground, where she landed with a grunt. Illyria looked down at her coolly. "Yet I don't. How does that make me a monster?" Buffy glared at her and pushed herself up while rubbing her throat, getting in Illyria's face.

"It doesn't." A pause. "But the fact that you _could_ do it, and not shed a tear does. Killing coldly, remorselessly…it's monstrous. It's _inhuman._" Illyria cocked an eyebrow.

"Oh really? You kill all the time, without remorse. Is that monstrous?"

"Yes!" Now that was a showstopper. She surprised everyone there. Buffy had known for sometime about the loss of humanity that came with being the slayer, but she had never mentioned it to any of her friends. "It's what being the slayer means. I have had to sacrifice a part of myself to do what I do, but I do it wiling, because if I don't people will die. Innocent people who don't deserve to die. And I do it remorselessly, I admit that…what's your excuse?" Buffy spat contemptuously, brushing past Illyria, who stayed facing the wall gazing at it sombrely.

"With no remorse?" Illyria asked quietly, turning around to face Buffy, who stood with her arms folded.

"None."

Illyria stood for a moment in quiet contemplation. "And what if I felt remorse for what I have done? Would that make me human?" Buffy blinked, thinking, staring darkly at Illyria.

"But you can't."

"But if I could?"

"But. You. Can't." End of conversation. Illyria glared at Buffy so fiercely that Buffy's confidence nearly collapsed. After a battle of wills, Illyria stormed upstairs to her room. Buffy exhaled a shaky breath she hadn't even realised she was holding. "Phew, that was intense!" remarked a very relieved Buffy. Spike edged over to Buffy, an apologetic look on his face.

"Look luv, I better go speak to the blue meanie. If she gets too upset she might decide to kill us all," he joked. Or at least Buffy _thought_ it was a joke. After that display, she wasn't too sure. Spike followed her upstairs.

Buffy turned to the others, who were looking tense. "Lets hope I don't have to repeat that experience any time soon!" remarked Buffy.

"Yeah. Who would have thought she could be that scary!" agreed Willow.

"Did she remind anybody else of Faith in her bad years?" asked Xander, moving his fingers in arcs.

Dawn shrugged. "Hey, I think she's kinda cool. I think she showed restraint by not killing those guys, who, by the way, probably were trying to kill her for some reason," she argued, arms coolly folded.

* * *

Illyria stalked into her room, followed by Spike, who closed the door. "Why have you followed me!" demanded Illyria.

"Because I am your guide, and it looks to me like you could use some guiding," he answered. "Look, you shouldn't pay too much attention to Buffy. She's always taking the moral high ground with everyone! It's what she does." Illyria ignored his comment, instead taking the conversation in a different direction.

"Do you think I am a monster?" Spike was unsure what to say for a moment, but quickly came up with something.

"Do you?" That was bound to sound wise, _and_ have actual value as a question.

"I asked you. In future, do not turn my questions around on me. But in answer…I do not know. How can I, when I don't even know how to define a monster? In my time, monster was not a word subjected to judgement."

"Well pet, in this world, monster is usually reserved for someone who doesn't feel remorse, love, compassion or empathy. You feel any of those things?"

"I…" she swallowed nervously. "I…feel remorse for Wesley. His death angers me…because it hurts me. I am angered because I am hurt, and I am hurt because I…" She broke off. Spike leaned closer to her, scrutinising her.

"Did you love him?" he asked with utmost seriousness. She looked away.

"I cannot know. I have never loved anything before. I do not know how to recognise the feeling." Spike thought for a while more, formulating another question.

"If I died, how would you feel?" She snapped her head back to him, eyes wide.

"I…" She thought about it. It would deeply affect her, she knew, though she didn't quite know why. "I…would not be happy," she said, recovering some of the composure she'd lost. Spike looked her in the eyes. And decided to try and draw more from her.

"How do feel about me?" he asked. Illyria dropped her head and thought for a long time. After what seemed an eternity to Spike, she answered.

"You are my Qwa'Ha Xahn. You are my guide……you are...…" Her cheeks began to flush. She could feel it burning her. It was humiliation. Humiliation at the sudden realisation that she considered him a friend. The magnificent Illyria, lowering herself so far as to be friends with a lower being. How the mighty had fallen. "The bane of my existence."

Gosh, that was flattering. But it was too late. Spike saw her cheeks turn a shade of pink. The angry glare at the floor, the clenched jaw. Spike came to the same conclusion she did. He was deeply flattered, but also happy for her. He was happy that she could admit it to herself, even if she didn't like it. He also knew this was one person not to taunt about it. At least, not for now. He figured that she needed some alone time. Getting up, he rested his hand on her shoulder.

"You're not a monster luv. Trust me, I'm an expert." With that, he left, leaving her alone with her own private shame.

* * *

Buffy watched as Spike came down the stairs, taking them two at a time, his coat trailing behind him. God he looked sexy when he did that…Buffy mildly reprimanded herself for thinking such thoughts, but soon gave up and just let her self watch, seeing no harm in it.

"So, any news?" he asked as he approached the group. Giles ran a hand through his hair, pausing to scratch the top of his head.

"Yes. It's big news. Unfortunately, we only have a small part of the story. Willow?" he said, motioning for Willow to take over, which she did with a lack of enthusiasm.

"It seems that the big shattering spell you guys saw in the alley was more than just a lightshow. Whatever it was, it's defiantly responsible for what's happening now. That's pretty much all we could learn. We've exhausted all of our sources, but come up with zilch," she explained forlornly. Spike got an idea from the word 'sources'.

"We should give Gunn a call. Some of his old 'sources' might know something. If we pay'em enough, that is," he recommended. Giles agreed, pulling out a flashy moblie phone. He dialed Gunn's number and waited for an answer.

"Hello? Gunn? Yes, it's Giles. We're fine, thanks. Yes. Anyway, we have a slight...situation." Giles then proceeded to explain to Gunn the news report and the legwork that Buffy and Spike had done. When Giles had finished, Gunn indicated he had a plan.

He arrived at the hotel within the hour, baring a small brass medallion.

"What's that?" asked Willow, eyeing it with interest. Gunn gave it to her. She became concerned when she saw what was on it. Arranged in a triangle were images of a wolf a ram and a hart. "Is it evil?" she asked with suspision.

"You betcha it's evil. I got it crafted in the magical artefacts department shortly before I quit."

"What does it do?" Willow asked apprehensively.

"Hopefully, it'll get us some answers!" he said, pointing at it. "There was this place in the office called the white room. It held the conduit to the partners; A mystical being of great strength. We're gonna summon it using that amulet, beat the crap out of it if need be, and hopefully get some answers. I got the feeling it's been around for a long, long time, so I'm wagerin' that it's heard of the spell in the alley."

"Sounds kinda dangerous…" remarked Dawn.

"It is. Which is why we need Illyria. Willow, you being ready with some mojo couldn't hurt either."

"Unless it destroys the world," said Spike in an off-handed manner. Gunn bobbed his head in amusement.

"I trust you Willow," he said, generating a smile from said witch, happy to hear it every now and then.

Within five minutes, they were ready to summon. Willow was on stand by, Spike had a sword, Illyria a battle-axe, and Buffy was holding The Scythe, brandishing it confidently. She really enjoyed holding it, getting that buzz that slayers got by handling the legendary weapon. Xander, Giles and Dawn were out of harms way on the balcony, aiming crossbows downward towards the lobby.

Gunn waved the talisman and said a short chant. In no time, magical energy was whirling around the lobby, moving into the centre, gathering in one place. It converged in the middle of the circle that they had formed, a beautiful black panther materialising out of it. Gunn had already explained to them the forms the conduit took. The mystical energy stopped, and the panther was left standing alone. It looked at Gunn with its enormous black eyes, blinked, and slowly fell over, landing heavily with a thud. Gunn hastily ran over to it. This was not meant to happen.

"Come on kitty, what's wrong?" It stared at him, panther eyes unable to communicate emotion. Its breath was shallow and ragged. It was so thin its ribs were highly visible.

"_I am dying_," he heard its deep voice echoing through his head, evil and malice dripping from every syllable; not against them, just a malice that was ever present and undiscriminatory. Judging by the looks of the others, they could hear it too.

"How?" It blinked again.

"_You_." Gunn was taken aback. "_You destroyed the Circle of the Black Thorn. Such an event has consequences you never foresaw. Without them, I was trapped in the white room, left to starve. They controlled so much. They even allowed me the means to be in contact with the wolf, ram, and hart. When they died, my link was severed, as was the link of every conduit in the world. It is still severed." _

Gunn was pleasantly surprised, but that's not why he brought the ancient evil cat here. He explained the situation. After some moments of silence, during which time he thought the conduit wasn't going to help them, it spoke again.

"_Very well, I will tell you. Normally I never would, but you saved me from dying in that white prison. This is to repay you. What you saw was a spell, cast many millennia ago by the wolf, the ram and the hart. So great was the spell that they themselves had to descend from the very heavens, no vassal on this plane being powerful enough to cast a spell intended to spread its influence so far, affect so many beings, and for so long. It makes people forget. Whenever they see something supernatural, they forget, or pass it off as something natural. It makes people simply not think about those sort of things. Of course, it doesn't affect everybody the same. Most demons and some people, like the slayer, are largely immune. Prolonged or repeated exposure can break its effects. However, its tertiary effects can cloud the minds of even those who are generally immune. For example, why has the slayer never agonised over **why** other people seem ignorant? The answer? Because even her mind is clouded. For most of its civilised history, humanity has been under the spells' influence. Demonic activity and very powerful magic can wear the spell thin in localised areas, in extreme cases even tear it, but the Circle of the Black Thorn has always been there to contain and repair the damage. With their buffering effect gone, a demonic convergence as large as the demon army in the alley shattered the spell, causing a worldwide chain reaction breakdown. All will soon be lost. The Circle is gone, and with it any hope of containing humanity. Soon, humankind will mobilise its armies against the demon realms."_

The shock in the room was so severe than each member could hear the breathing of the others. It was a lot to take in.

"I don't get it, if this is so bad, why'd the senior partners send that army? Surely they knew it would break their own spell without the Circle there to keep it working?" queried Gunn, who was deeply concerned. The panther took a ragged, wheezy breath and continued.

"_They didn't... It was the family...of the archduke. They unleashed the hordes. The partners haven't been in contact with this realm or any other since that day. The Circle...was their only means of... communication. They are helpless to interfere in this world now, and will be until one of the branches of ...Wolfram and Hart finds a way to…to………to re-connect." _The panther took one last shaky breath and was still, the shock of being magically transported having hastened its decline to death. There was a harrowing silence, each member of the Scooby group too stunned to say much of anything. They mulled over the new information, each of them starting to feel violated by the spell. They were also afraid. Now that the spell of gone, would things be different? It had actually changed who they are. It had always influenced their behaviour, as well as how they viewed the world. Would that all change now?

Only time would tell.

* * *

More to come. The fic is now safely past the early stages. Don't forget to review, so that I can make future chapters even better.  



	6. The Paths We Walk

Days passed. The renovation of the Hyperion continued. It would be completed shortly. The rooms which had already been fixed were now fully equipped to host guests. Beds, curtains, chairs, showers and all other sorts of necessities had been added, all brand new and high quality. The first hotel guests were already on their way over; several watchers were en route with their slayers to discuss the future of the council in a meeting, as well as what to do about the many slayers who wished to ignore their calling, and a host of other questions.

After a prolonged debate about the news, it was decided that there wasn't actually much they could do. They hadn't reached consensus as to whether it was a good or a bad thing. On the one hand, the radical altering of mankind's perception of the state of the world was bound to send shockwaves throughout the population. On the other, perhaps facing the truth would be beneficial, as Dawn had argued. If everybody knew about vampires and demons, they'd be safer. On the other hand, as Spike pointed out, there were hundreds of thousands of good demons, wanting nothing but to live in peace, who would now no longer have the protection of the spell, and humans by their nature were intolerant. He took a much grimmer view of the future of demon kind. All in all, they were headed for very uncertain times.

Which was why Buffy was doing what she was doing now. She sat at a small round table in the middle of a very fancy restaurant, Russian of all types. Other couples at other tables ate and talked throughout the large, one-storey building. Waiters in formal dress manoeuvred throughout the maze of tables, ferrying food and drink of all manner to their customers. Spike sat across from her, looking out of place, but totally comfortable. She had literally not believed him when he said he was taking her out to a candle lit dinner, accusing him of joking, but he proved her wrong tonight when he'd shown up at her door wearing what he called fancy dress: Namely, a purple silk shirt in addition to his normal black one, and lacking the duster. She'd gotten dressed up in a lovely cream coloured blouse that Spike had acquired for her. It was shoulderless and strapless, leaving her arms and neck free of any dressing. It clung to her body all the way down, only giving her some room just above the knee. She sorely hoped she wouldn't wind up slaying tonight. The high heels she was in were not suited for anything more than a dainty walk.

"Umm…I have a small problem Spike," said Buffy, slightly amused by it. "I don't speak Russian, and the menu…" she trailed off. He brushed her worries aside.

"Don't worry love, I've a basic grasp of the language. Me and Angel spent a while in Russia before the whole communism crap started up."

"You speak Russian?" asked Buffy, impressed. He shrugged.

"Little bit. For instance, this," he said, pointing to an item on Buffy's menu. "Is Sharlotka, a lovely dessert," he declared. "Or possibly an after dinner mint…I'm not one hundred percent certain," he continued quietly with lowered eyebrows. Buffy grinned at his lack of aptitude. She decided to focus on the prices, as that might give an indication as to whether a dish was dessert, a main course, or a starter. She pointed out a sixty-dollar item, a price she considered fine for a good main course. "Yeah, if you want to get really, really drunk. That's a bottle of vodka."

"Oh," came Buffy's slightly embarrassed reply. "Why don't we just ask the waiter?" Spike nodded in agreement, realising his Russian was too rusty to be of much use. They hailed the waiter, a man who introduced himself as Anton. After much asking of what the dishes actually were, Buffy settled on a venison dish, which was utterly unpronounceable. Spike ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, just to prove something because the waiter had eyed him warily. Spike wasn't exactly in fancy dress, having bribed the doorman to let him in after being initially refused.

"So anyway Spike," began Buffy conversationally, sipping the white wine they had ordered. "Just how many languages do you speak? Giles told me you speak Fyrral, and now I find out you speak Russian? What else?" Spike beamed proudly with exaggerated bravado.

"Well, I'm fluent in English. I can speak Cockney pretty well. There's American." Buffy raised her eyebrow, bemused. "I know some Italian. I know some Spanish, some French, Russian, Hungarian, German, Turkish, Latin, ancient Greek-"

"Ancient Greek?" prodded Buffy, bemused. Spike nodded.

"Yeah. Greek and Latin all par for the course before I was turned; I could finish school without them. Hated them both to bits though."

"Wow, Spike. I had no idea! Just how many languages can you speak?" Spike looked at the ceiling for a while, counting the ones he could get by in, and discounting the ones he didn't know squat about. After a few seconds he looked back down.

"Lessee…I'd say about thirty? None of them well, of course, but I can order food and get drunk in about thirty, including five demon languages. And before you say anything, I'm not a natural. Its just when your in a country, eating its citizens its only polite to learn to say, "Nice eating you" in a tongue they can understand." Despite the references to killing, Buffy still laughed. She was almost horrified at herself for finding it funny, but she had come to realise life was too short to be horrified by bad taste jokes from Spike, as she was bound to hear loads of them if she stuck near him.

"Who'd have ever thought you could be so funny?" realised Buffy aloud. Spike shrugged.

"Who'd have ever taken the time to find out except you?" Spike answered. Buffy raised an eyebrow.

"Angel?"

"Nah," said Spike, shaking his head. "He never liked my sense of humour. Said it was unrefined. Dawn, on the other hand, has always loved my sense of humour! Since they day I first tried to kill her. She told me herself. Said I made much better combat jokes than you!" Buffy's mouth hung open in disbelief.

"That…little…traitor! My puns are so superior you your 'jokes'!"

"Are not!"

"Are-" Buffy began, stopping herself pointedly. She was noting getting into that kind of fight. She smiled sneakily at him. "I stay up at night writing those! Are you telling me that those into which I pour my heart and soul are not even worth a small laugh?" Spike rolled his eyes again.

"Nice try slayer. What next, you'll try and guilt trip me for eyeing your sister in her underwear?" Buffy glared at him, unable to do anything else, considering she was still smiling.

"Now that you mention it Spike, what did you think you were doing? She's only eighteen. You're...older."

"You were just turned seventeen when you let a vastly older man have sex with you!" he pointed out, nodding sarcastically. "Somehow, I don't think me looking compares. Besides, that girl could use some confidence. She's such a..." he trailed off, looking for the right word.

"Spaz?" Buffy supplied. Spike clicked his fingers and pointed at Buffy, as if to say 'that's the one.' "Still...I think I might get jealous. My boyfriend is eyeing my sister." Buffy kicked herself for using the B word even as she was saying it. Spike's smug expression softened.

"Boyfriend? I've been elevated to boyfriend status now?" he asked, ready to be shot down. He had actually realised that she hadn't meant it that way, though he wasn't sure Buffy had realised that he'd realised. Buffy looked around embarrassedly.

"Spike-"

"No no, you can't take it back now that you've said it!" he said accusingly, hiding a smile. He was going to see how far she'd deny it. She huffed admissivly.

"Fine. You're sort of, almost, but not quite, my boyfriend," she said in a broken sentence, earning an appreciative wink from Spike.

"Now that wasn't so hard to say, was it? It's all I've been asking for for years!" Buffy grinned sheepishly. It hadn't been that hard to say. She could have said it fully, but she didn't want Spike to get too many ideas. They chatted until the food was delivered, ordering a bottle of red wine, which Spike seemed to know everything about. Some way through their meal, Spike struck up a conversation about it.

"You see, the reason this wine is so good is because it's grown from grapes which are frozen every night in the hills of Georgia, and '81 was a fine year. Loads of homeless people froze to death that year." A slightly uncomfortable pause followed, Buffy mellowed by the talk of death. Spike decided to revive the conversation. "Which you can put a stop to, if your career in politics goes ok! I think studying politics and law is a fine choice. It'll suit you because unlike most people, who only want power, you truly want to help people. The voters will realise that you're in it for them and not for yourself, and they'll be drawn to that. Even more so with me as your PR guy!" Buffy nearly spat out the wine in her mouth, but managed to swallow it before it ended up as a cloud of mist floating around Spike's head.

"You? PR?" she said, barely able to keep a straight face. "What are you gonna do? Yell bloody sodding hell at people until they vote for me?" she said with a laugh, a slight slur on some of her words. Spike feigned a hurt expression.

"Hey, I'd be a good PR man! Vampire….manpire!" Buffy muffled a hysterical laugh.

"Manpire? Maybe I was wrong about the punning," she said, eating her dinner. Spike put down his fork, his meal almost gone.

"Told ya," he prodded playfully, nudging her under the table with his boot. Buffy nudged back, and a battle of feet commenced. Of course, Spike had the definite advantage, his heavy boots having the qualities of armour compared to Buffy's nearly non-existent heels. After a few moments their war became a game of footsie, played coyly between the two, each of them getting a thrill by doing it in a crowd of people. Buffy moved her leg against Spike's, slowly inching it up and up. Spike could feel desire building within him. He doubted Buffy had any idea what she was doing to him, though the look in her eyes caused him to doubt that assessment. He'd seen that look before. It was that flirtatious glint in her eye that he was pretty sure Buffy wasn't even aware she had. He looked at her seriously, not wanting to be teased this badly.

"Buffy, what are you doing?" he asked searchingly.

"Playing footsie with my date?" she replied in a chirp, but with a doubting inflection.

"To what end?" Buffy's face fell and she withdrew her foot.

"To no end. I thought…we were just having fun. But it's ok if you don't want to," she said nervously, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Spike relented and a small smile re-formed.

"It's ok luv." Buffy shook her head.

"No, it's not. I shouldn't be teasing you like that. I'm sorry Spike," she said, reaching her hand out across the table, inviting him to take it. He eyed it for a moment before reaching out to it and grasping it in his own. They exchanged loving smiles for a few moments, before continuing with their meals.

* * *

Buffy and Spike strolled haphazardly into the Hyperion lobby. It was dark and quiet, all the inhabitants in bed. They had consumed a bottle of wine each, not enough to be very drunk, but just enough for the world to spin if they closed their eyes. Open, the world was somewhat fuzzy, and everything blurred slightly if Buffy looked around too quickly.

"I had a wonderful time tonight, Spike," said Buffy happily, her emotion filled eyes gazing into Spikes. "We should do it again some time soon. Only next time, I choose the venue?" Spike looked confused, and slightly disappointed.

"What, didn't you like the Russian place? I thought it would be your cuppa tea!" Buffy realised her mistake, and quickly consoled him.

"I loved it. It was romantic, tasteful and so much fun, but I'm sure you must have hated it!" Spike shrugged.

"I've gone through worse. 'Sides, it was well worth it to see you enjoy yourself." Buffy was touched that he'd go through something so boring for her.

"Next time, we'll go to a destruction derby or a wrestling match. Something you'll enjoy. Ok?" she offered, meaning every word. Spike was over the moon, not because of Buffy's offer to do something he wanted, but because she confirmed there would definitely be a 'next time'. He smiled longingly at her, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. The touch of his hand to her face made Buffy realised just how close they were standing together. She looked up at him in absolute silence. His face was so full of love for her. She knew he would never leave her. As if to acknowledge it, or possibly to thank him, or for some other reason Buffy couldn't think of, she stood on her toes and kissed him softly on the lips. They kissed for several seconds, but when Spike tried to deepen the kiss, Buffy pulled away.

"Spike-" she began, but was cut off by him. He knew what she was going to say. She wanted to wait for Angel to get back so they could talk, and maybe decide to be with him instead. Well Spike was sick of it.

"No, Buffy!" he snapped angrily. "I don't wanna hear it. I know, I know, you wanna wait for Angel so you two can get all goofy eyed and heart sick, and then not be with one another because he has a curse! Well guess what Buffy, you two can't be together! And even if you just want him around, it's still grasping at straws. What we have here and now is worth pursuing!" Buffy fell into a shocked silence. She tried to say that she just wanted to wait for him, but the words weren't forthcoming. Spike understood what she was trying to get across though. "You know what else Buffy? Angel sodding well _left_! He fucked off, didn't even say where he was going, and certainly didn't say when he'd be back! For all you know he might be gone years! Life is short Buffy, and every day you spend waiting for him to return, just to talk about you _not_ being together, is a day you could be spending with me!" He took a breath and continued, his voice lower. "Now, if you want to tell me to get lost, just do it, but don't keep me at an arms length anymore. It isn't fair on either of us," he concluded on a quiet note.

Buffy gazed quietly up at him, barely breathing. He was right, she knew. Angel might be gone for a long time. For all she even knew, he was dead. And even if he did come back, what then? Spend time near each other, but never together? And never with Spike either, just because Angel wouldn't like it? Spike was right about time too. She knew she wanted to be with Spike, and every day she waited was one day lost. She wasn't getting any younger. Maybe it was the alcohol, but everything Spike said made sense. She leaned forward and kissed him again, this time with passion, grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt. He crushed himself to her, pulling her closer. After a while, he pulled back, looking her in the eyes searchingly.

"You sure you wanna do this love?" he asked, hoping dearly she'd say yes, but bracing himself for a no. Without words, she said yes, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, baring his smooth, pale chest. She ran her hands over it, kissing him again. Needing no further encouragement, he pushed her backwards until she came to rest on one of the desks. Shoving all of the thousand-year-old books haphazardly onto the floor, he leaned Buffy over, his hand running up her leg and under her cream dress. She pulled his shirt off with such force it tore, discarding it on the floor. Spike passionately kissed Buffy's neck, enticing moans of pleasure from her. He bit it softly, subtly reminding her that he was a vampire, knowing the danger of it would turn her on even more. He was right, as when he did it her breathing deepened. He reached behind her and grabbed the zip to her dress, pulling on it gently, causing her dress to loosen.

Buffy wiggled out of it, the dress landing in a heap around her ankles. Spike ripped her strapless bra off, baring her chest for his taking. He trailed kisses from her neck to her breasts, biting them enough to cause small amounts of pain. He knew first hand how Buffy loved a little pain during sex. Her time with him before had revealed a masochistic side of her that nobody would have ever guessed existed. Relieving them both of all their clothes, he entered her, taking her right there on the table. For an unknown length of time, they made love passionately. For both of them, it was a whole new experience. Spike knew he wasn't being used, and it felt better than anything he had ever imagined. For Buffy, she was with someone she loved deeply, a feeling she hadn't known in a very long time. She looked him in the eyes and kissed him.

When they were finished, they rested their hot, flushed bodies against one another, basking in the afterglow, enjoying the tenderness of just holding each other, kissing softly every now and then. After about ten minutes, Buffy started to get cold, the excess heat from the activity long escaping from her exposed skin. She bent down to pick up her bra, which Spike had unceremoniously broken in the fervour. She had really liked that bra. She put her dress back on, but kept her underwear in her hand, not bothering with it because she was just going to take it off again when she went back to bed. She looked over at Spike, who had gotten his jeans back on, but was still shirtless. A broad, loving grin crossed her features. She was going to get back to bed with Spike. She didn't think he'd let her away with just one shag, a prospect she wasn't opposed to. Spike glanced over at her, a warm, glowing smile on his face. The mood was shattered a second later.

She got a horrible feeling when she heard the front door of the Hyperion slam shut. She and Spike both shot around to face the intruder, shock and apprehension visible on their features.

"Angel," said Buffy breathlessly, suddenly mortified by what she had just done, and even more fearful of what was about to come. In almost any other circumstance, she'd have ran up to him and hugged him, but the look he was giving them now was making her want to run and hide. He looked from her to Spike, the former holding her underwear, the latter semi-naked. Both their hair was dishevelled, and both of them were sweating. Even Buffy could smell the scent of sex in her air, so she knew Angel must have been bombarded by it.

Buffy's heart was in her throat. She was unable to formulate a word. Spike wasn't stupid enough to say anything, knowing that he'd make the situation worse, no matter what he said. "Angel…I-" Buffy began, but couldn't finish, not knowing what to say. Angel looked at Buffy, his eyes so full of hurt she couldn't bare it. Without saying a word, he whirled around and stalked out, pushing the doors open with such force they were blown off their hinges, the glass in them shattering into a million pieces and clattering to the ground. Buffy ran after him, leaving Spike alone in the hotel to pick up the proverbial pieces.

She caught up to him at the corner of the block. She grabbed his arm, but he pulled it from her and kept walking. Again she tried, but he pulled away once more, only with greater force. She jumped in front of him, blocking his path, but he sidestepped her and walked on, leaving her almost in tears. "Angel, stop!" she begged urgently. "I'm sorry you saw that, please believe me!" Angel ignored her and kept walking. "Angel!" He kept walking. Buffy was silent for a few seconds, watching him get further and further away.

"Well what the hell did you expect?" she yelled angrily at him in a last ditch attempt to get him to stop, her voice echoing down the empty night street. It worked. He suddenly came to a halt, standing there, waiting for her to continue. "You left! You didn't say why! You didn't even tell me! I had no idea when you'd be back! For all I knew, you were dead! You can't just expect me to put my life on hold for you!" He said nothing, just letting her words sink in. For too long, the only sound permeating the air was that of the city beyond. They both thought about what to say next, and at the end of the long, long silence, he finally spoke.

"You're right Buffy. In fact, I never even asked you to put it on hold. You…have every right to be with Spike. You're not mine to keep." Saying that was perhaps the hardest thing he had ever said. It was even harder than telling her he was leaving Sunnydale all those years ago. He said it with a quivering voice. Although he was angry, the predominant emotion was hurt. He should have expected something like it. "And I'm sorry I didn't tell you where I was going. I didn't want to get your hopes up in case I failed." Buffy furrowed her brow.

"Get my hopes up? What do you mean?" He looked at her like he wanted to dodge the question. "Angel, tell me!" He relented, dropping his arms to his sides. Buffy ran up to him.

"To get my curse removed. I wanted them to change the happiness clause. I wanted to be able to be with you; to make you happy," Buffy's eyes widened in awe. "I went to Romania, to seek out the Kalderash people, to ask them to alter it." Buffy's breath was short, her heart pounding.

"Did you find them?" she asked in a stunned whisper. He nodded. She grabbed him by the shoulders, about to ask a question that she hoped would change her life. "And did they do it?" He stared into her eyes for a long time, his hurt and sorrow pouring forth from his gaze. After what seemed to Buffy to be an eternity, he finally answered.

"No." Buffy's heart broke inside. She had hoped so badly that he would say yes. She had longed for him to say yes, and then sweep her from her feet into a kiss, the first of many. She thought of her and Spike, instantly regretting their time together. If she had just waited another hour, she wouldn't be in this situation. She had hurt Angel incredibly by sleeping with Spike, and nearly as bad was hurting Spike by running after Angel. She was so guilty for hurting both of them that she hated herself for it.

When Angel said no, the look of despair and bitter disappointment on Buffy's beautiful face made him want to take it back. He wanted so badly to tell her the truth; that they had removed the happiness clause. At first, they weren't going to. Just when Angel was considering ending his long life, the powers had told him not to in the form of a vision, obtained from Cordeilla. Apparently it was more than a one shot deal as he'd originally been led to believe. The vision had made the gypsy woman change her mind, believing the powers wished it. Whether or not they did was open to debate, but he wasn't going to argue with her. He boarded the first plane he could that would land at night, and came straight to Buffy. He was going to tell her that he could be with her now, but when he entered the hotel and had the overpowering smell of Spike and Buffy assaulting him, he realised that Buffy had moved on.

"I'm so sorry Angel…" she whispered.

"Not as sorry as I am. Not that it would have mattered…" he said darkly. Buffy became embarrassed.

"Angel…about Spike and I…we're not together." Angel looked at her incredulously, the angst of a moment ago replaced with bitterness.

"Oh really? Coulda fooled me!" he said sarcastically. "Because last time I checked, sex sorta implied togetherness!" Buffy shook her head, looking at the ground.

"Look, Angel, I'm not denying that what Spike and I did didn't mean anything; it did. It was an expression of our…feelings for each other. But I love you. I love you so much, I want nothing more than to be with you, but…Spike is a part of my life, and I want him in it too…"

"What, you want to be with both us, is that it?" he said, not actually being serious, but at Buffy's guilty look he realised that was exactly what she wanted. "Oh my god Buffy! You want me to share you with _Spike_! What's gotten into you? You'd don't think that either of us would do that, do you? And as for loving me, you obviously don't care that much if you'd have sex with Spike in my _home_." Buffy slapped him on the cheek. His words stung sharply, so much so that she couldn't stop tears from welling up in her eyes. She knew they'd never do it, but the way he reacted hurt her badly.

"How can you possibly know how I feel about either of you? You haven't been around these past years, and you certainly haven't been around these last few weeks. I love Spike. I love him so much that being around him is nearly as bad as being around you! And ok, I'm a filthy, disgusting slut for wanting both of you, but you know what? I'm past caring about that! I'm following my heart." Angel sighed, feeling bad for reacting so sarcastically.

"That's not the reason I don't like it Buffy. I mean, I was in a four way relationship for twenty years, so trust me, a three way? Not shocking. It's the fact that it's Spike! It's the fact that it's _you_…It's also the fact that...I no longer have your heart," he said, his tone softening with every word. "Do you know how much it killed me, seeing you two like that? It wasn't the physical that bothered me the most: You two have had sex before, I know that. But back then, it was just sex. This time it was more. You gave yourself to him completely. You…" he paused, thinking. "…….You were his, not mine." Buffy shook her head, tears falling freely.

"No. I gave half of me to him. The other half is yours."

"Half?"

"No…that's wrong. Not half, I could never give only half of me to either of you. You're right, I did give myself completely to him. You have me completely too. You both do. You are both my world, Angel. I'm done baking, and this is me now. I know it's selfish, and probably impossible, but I want you both equally, and to not have one of you would slowly kill me inside…" she trailed off. They were silent for a long time, the only sound a single passing car. This admission changed things for Angel. Before, he had thought Buffy had chosen Spike. Now that she said she wanted them both...

"They removed it," Angel admitted abruptly. Buffy looked at him, amazement in her eyes.

"Your…?" Angel nodded.

"My curse. I…lied. I saw you and Spike, and I thought…I thought you'd decided to be with him. I lied because I didn't want to shake things up even more. I thought I'd lost you." Buffy stepped closer to Angel, her face full of love and wonder, the glistening trails of her tears shining in the darkness.

"Never. You could never loose me, Angel! It's gone? You can achieve perfect happiness?" she asked, almost disbelievingly, scared to hope. He nodded. "Then…you can be with me?"

"Yes." As soon as he said that, Buffy kissed him deeply, but pulled away when he didn't respond. She looked him in the eye searchingly. "Buffy…" Her face fell as she realised what he meant. He wouldn't be with her. Not as long as she was with Spike.

"But you won't…" she said. She suddenly felt dirty because he didn't want to touch her. The feeling of being dirty had never crossed her mind before now. "You won't be with me, because I let him touch me? I don't believe you Angel! We've been apart so long, and now that we actually can be together, you won't, because you don't want to share me? That is so petty!" Angel shook his head disbelievingly.

"It's really not that petty. There are-"

"I don't want to hear it! Don't speak to me until you have something to say that won't make me feel _worthless_!" she said venomously, tears streaming down her cheeks, spinning around on her toes and running back to the hotel as best she could in high heels. As she ran up the stairs in the lobby, Spike tried to talk to her, but she pushed him out of the way, not stopping for an instant. Spike watched her disappear around the corner, hearing her door slam shut shortly after. Shaking his head and cursing, Spike exited the hotel and walked along the path, Angel standing near the corner, arms folded in deep thought. As Spike approached him, Angel unfolded them and held them at his sides.

"What the bloody hell did you say to her!" Spike demanded. "She's cryin' her eyes out up there!"

"It's none of your business Spike," the elder vampire said firmly, brushing past his descendant. Spike grabbed Angel and spun him around.

"You better bloody believe it's my business! In case you haven't noticed, Buffy affects both of us! You an' me! She's been dying for you to get back, torturing herself for weeks, thinkin' that maybe you left because of her! I personally don't know what she was thinking, wasting her time waitin' around for you, the only person in the world who can't possibly make her perfectly happy!"

"Spike-"

"Shut up and listen, you stupid bastard! I'm gonna go ahead and give you a full account of everything that's been goin' on with Buffy since you fucked off! She has cried over you, moaned, moped and bloody well _brooded_ over you! Tonight, I convinced her that you would want her to be happy, and what do you do? You come here, act all namby pamby and high an' mighty, head up your arse, and you tell her something she doesn't want to hear!"

"Spike-" Angel tried again, more forcefully.

"Well, I hope she realises that you can't be with her. And I hope you come to your senses and tell her the same thing. It isn't fair on her for you to cling to something you can't have. Let the girl get on with her life!"

"Spike!" Spike stopped talking for a moment, giving Angel the opening he needed. "She wanted a three way relationship with the two of us." Spike instantly lost the desire to rip into Angel. "I told her that it would never work. She got upset and left."

"Oh," said Spike in reply. "That's…umm…well, it doesn't matter what it is, because you _still _can't be with her!" Spike pointed out, momentarily recovering from his shock.

"I got the curse removed. The key to Angelus's cage has been thrown away," Angel stated simply. The admission shook Spike. A real fear of loosing Buffy to Angel reared it's ugly, and until now, sleeping head. After a moment of shocked silence, Spike continued, albeit with a sombre tone.

"Congratulations mate," Spike said hollowly. With Angel free to be with Buffy, he expected she'd go over to him. But what about all the times she'd said she'd loved him? Surely they counted for something? But Buffy considered Angel her soul mate. What was Spike? A quick shag, by precedent. No, he must be more than that. He had to be. The night they'd just had, it had been magical. Spike had certainly had several moments of perfect happiness. Not to mention all the times…yeah! Of course she wanted to be with him. She had said so. But still…that nagging worry just wouldn't go away.

"I wouldn't break out the champagne yet, Spike. You don't seem to be grasping the concept here. Not that that's unusual for you, but…Buffy said she wants a three-way relationship. As in a threesome?"

"What, as the same time? As if!" Spike laughed condescendingly.

"It doesn't really matter. She said…" Angel sighed. He was about to formally acknowledge Spike's place in Buffy's heart, something that until now he had been able to ignore. With gritted teeth, he began: "And I quote, 'I want you both equally, and to not have one of you would slowly kill me inside'. Which, sadly, puts us both in the running. She was pretty adamant that she loved both of us, and I don't think she'll accept one without the other." Spike was silent for a while, eventually deciding to state the obvious.

"It seems we have a problem then…"

* * *

Morning arrived, and the hotel slowly came to life. Willow, Dawn, Xander and Giles got their breakfast, eating it on the tables in the lobby of the Hyperion. Illyria left as she did every morning, refusing to be drawn into conversation about her activities, though they all knew she was using Fred's knowledge and connections to further her own newfound career. Angel, Spike and Buffy were nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, what's this?" asked Xander with a smug grin as he picked up a thong from the ground, waving it around for all to see.

"Oh, that's some of Buffy's underwear," answered Dawn nonchalantly. "She must have dropped it when she was doing the laundry downstairs."

"Uh huh. Or maybe she and Spike were getting their jollies on?" he speculated. "They did go on a date after all."

"It would explain why there were some books on the floor…" noted Willow. Giles looked around him. He had sat at the place where the table was bare. He quickly picked up his bowl and moved to another spot. Xander dropped the underwear, a slightly ill look on his face.

"That's where I sit when I'm researching! Oh god!" Dawn Ahem'd from behind Xander. He turned around, and saw Dawn holding a broken bra.

"I'd say she defiantly got her freak on last night," said Dawn dryly. Something on the coat rack caught her eye. It was a black coat. "Hey, is that Angel's coat?" she asked, pointing to it. Everyone's head turned.

"Yeah, it is!" answered Xander. "Which means…it mightn't have been Spike she boinked! Angelus could be back! She wouldn't be that stupid, would she? Naw, it had to have been Spike. Right?"

"Unless!" started Dawn very loudly, lowing her tone, embarrassed by the outburst. "What if…Angel left to get his soul fixed, like Spike's is? You don't think it's possible, do you? I mean, think about it, he left on a voyage, got it fixed, came back and told Buffy, who was so happy that she…"

"Or maybe he went away for some other reason entirely, and he came back last night and went to bed?" supplied Giles rationally. "We can't know, and frankly I think it should be Buffy's business what happened last night."

"Yeah, that might be best," came Buffy's voice from the stairs. Dawn hid Buffy's bra behind her back, hoping she hadn't already seen it. Everyone else looked around, pretending not to have been talking at all. Buffy walked down the stairs, still wearing the dress from the night before, sans the shoes and the underwear.

"Umm…how much did you hear, Buff?" asked Xander timidly.

"Only the part about it being my business," she replied tiredly. "So, whatchya talking about?" A short silence ensued, no one particularly wanting to tell her what they'd been saying.

"We were just wondering if Angel had come back? His jacket is hung up on the wall," said Giles, electing to start. Buffy nodded flatly.

"Yeah, he's back. Came back last night."

"And? Where was he?" asked Willow, a question they all wanted to know.

"Romania. Getting his curse lifted. He's no longer allergic to happiness." This caused quite a stir among the scoobies, who generally welcomed the news. "He told me last night."

"And? What happened?" asked a grinning Willow excitedly. Buffy sighed.

"I hit him." Willow furrowed her brow briefly.

"Oh. Well, that's to be expected. It wouldn't be a real Buffy relationship without some violence," said Willow, only half joking.

"So did you sleep with him or not?" asked Dawn bluntly. Willow suddenly got almost giddy, remembering what Buffy had said about wanting Angel and Spike. Maybe…Buffy glared at Dawn.

"I don't think that's any of your business young lady!" Dawn raised an eyebrow defiantly.

"Really? Cause I found these." She held up Buffy's underwear. "I'm betting you did it on the desk over there." Buffy blushed furiously, glancing at the desk where she had Spike had made love. The look on her face combined with her silence gave everyone there the information they needed.

"Dawn, could we not talk about this right now? Please? Last night wasn't a good night for me. Some stuff came up-" Dawn stifled a laugh.

"I bet it did!" she said. After a second of bafflement, a look of realisation dawned on Buffy's face, quickly accompanied by a glare.

"I'm serious Dawn! I don't want to talk about it. Not that's it's any of your business, but lets just say Angel and I had some differences of opinion over Spike, and leave it at that! Ok?" Dawn sobered, nodding ok. "And gimmie those!" Buffy ordered, swiping her underwear from Dawn. The gang didn't talk for a few minutes, but was broken by Xander after all the food had been consumed.

"Will, you ready?" Willow nodded.

"Come on, let's go." Buffy blinked.

"Where you goin' this early Xand?" she asked.

"To get my eye fixed!" Buffy's eyes widened.

"Fixed! You can do that? And why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, I only just found out it could be done for sure last night, and you and Spike were already gone on your date by then."

"That's…wonderful! I'm so happy for you Xander. You'll be normal again in no time!" Buffy exclaimed happily. Xander shook his head, grinning.

"Not normal. I'm going to have a magically enhanced, state of the art cybernetic eye implanted. It'll give me even better vision than a vampire, as well as the ability to zoom in. It's costing a pretty penny, but we can afford it now that the council has funds."

"You're using council funds?" Xander shrugged.

"Yeah. I am a watcher, after all. Man, that still sounds weird…anyway, after I get the procedure done, I have to go to the airport and pick up a new slayer. Her name's Lea von something or other, she's German. She's also the first of many. More are arriving tomorrow." Willow, who was standing by the door, ready to leave, beckoned to Xander to follow her. "Oh, gotta go Buffy. I'll be seeing you in a few hours, with both eyes!" He happily followed Willow out the front door. A short silence ensued between Buffy, Dawn and Giles, which was broken by Dawn, who turned to Buffy with a pleading look on her face.

"So Buffy, I was wondering if you'd go shopping with me today? School is coming up soon and I need books. And cooler outfits. And some piercings!" Buffy cocked her head in a bossy kind of way.

"Ears, ok. Anything else, no! And with what money, for that matter? Council funds are not for fashion, they're for saving the world," Buffy said.

"Giles already gave me money. You're only there in an advisory capacity." Buffy shot Giles an accusing look, to which he merely shrugged. Dawn folded her arms defiantly. "And I'm eighteen now Buffy. If I want, I could get a tattoo below the belt that says insert here." Buffy gave Dawn a look of horror, to which Dawn rolled her eyes. "Not like I would though, MOM." Buffy pouted.

"I am not a mom. Why do people keep saying that?" she wondered forlornly.

"Maybe it's your inability to have any fun? Or let your legally adult little sister have any fun?" Buffy steeled herself and looked at Dawn solidly.

"I can and will have fun. Right now. Come on, lets go shopping. We'll take the Viper!"

Dawn became visibly excited at the prospect of taking Angel's car. "Cool! Lets go. Now!" Buffy wondered briefly if Angel would mind her taking his car without asking, but brushed the thought aside. She was still angry with him, and she felt that it was just punishment. Besides, it wasn't like he'd be going anywhere during the day. Today, she was going to enjoy some much-needed family time with her sister, and forget about Spike and Angel for the time being. Grabbing the keys from the reception desk, she and Dawn left confidently, leaving Giles alone. Or at least, Giles thought he was alone.

Seconds after they left, Angel strode down the stairs, dressed in slacks and a light shirt. Giles glanced at Angel coolly, sipping his tea. Angel stopped half way, watching Buffy get into his car.

"Huh…she took the Viper. Well, that's only to be expected. She took the hotel and made it her own too," he said to Giles conversationally, the slightest hint of annoyance creeping into his forced jovial tone. Tension between the two was at an all time high. Angel had learned from Spike that Giles had been evil for a while, but that didn't mean there wasn't animosity between the pair.

"I seem to recall Mr. Gunn assisting. No need to blame Buffy," said Giles in an off-handed manner. Angel shook his head.

"I'm not blaming anyone. I guess it irked me a little to have no choice, but I really don't mind you guys using the hotel. It's good that it can be used to help people." That admission actually made Giles feel better. Even if he didn't like Angel, he hadn't been comfortable just moving in and taking over.

"Well, that's good," Giles remarked, nodding. An uncomfortable silence overcame the two men. In an effort to lessen it, Angel went into his office, which was almost devoid of the usual papers and case files, and fixed himself a cup of tea. He went back out and sat down next to Giles.

"Giles, I've become a seer," Angel said simply. Giles stared intently at Angel, putting down his cup. "I had a vision from the powers."

"Good lord…like Cordellia used to get?" Giles asked with intense interest. Angel nodded.

"Something like that. It happened in Romania. In fact, it's what convinced the gypsies to return my soul in full."

"Congratulations, by the way. It's nice to know you won't be killing any more of the people I love," remarked Giles with an overly pleasant smile. Angel smiled back at him with an equally sweet one.

"That's good. It's also nice to know you won't be ignoring my pleas for help, resulting in the death of one of the people _I_ love." The irony of the statement was not lost on Giles. He cleared his throat and spoke again.

"Anyway, your vision?" said Giles, changing the subject, a move Angel was grateful for.

"Yeah. It was, oddly enough, a vision of me getting a vision." Giles raised an amused brow.

"Which would imply that the Powers wanted you to have the happiness clause removed from your curse," summated Giles, earning a nod from Angel. Re-adjusting his glasses, he continued. "Can you think why?"

"No," lied Angel. He could think of a reason. Maybe this was his reward. He'd signed away the Shanshu, and maybe this was the best the powers could do. He didn't feel comfortable talking about rewards with Giles. Or anyone, for that matter, including himself. No matter how many people he saved, he could still remember all those he'd killed. Even a single life, such as that of Drogyan, weighed heavily on his conscience. In fact, especially Drogyan. Angel had betrayed and murdered the crusader for good in cold blood, with his soul intact. It was just the most recent in a string of horrible things. After all his crimes, talk of a reward made him cringe, especially around people who disliked him.

"Hmm…" Giles mumbled. "You say you got a vision of you getting a vision? Do you think it has any meaning, or was it just for the benefit of the Gypsies?"

"I don't think it has any real use. I wasn't aware of when or where the vision within the vision took place. I think it was more a reminder…a reminder that I'm still in their employ."

"And not in Wolfram and Harts'?"

"Yeah. The powers were the ones who told me to enter the Circle of the Black Thorn, so even when I was working at Wolfram and Hart, I was still doing their work." A long pause followed.

"Have you been brought up to speed on the current events?" inquired Giles.

"You mean about the senior partners' spell breaking and the world slowly waking up to the realities of the demon realms? Yeah. Spike filled me in last night. It's hard to believe the reason I never really wondered why humans didn't notice us is because I was under the influence of some spell…I feel…"

"Violated?" supplied Giles knowingly. Angel nodded, Giles hitting the nail on the head. "Don't we all…" he mused. The phone rang, surprising Angel greatly. He pointed at it dumbly.

"The phone's re-connected," he said, looking at Giles, who nodded and shrugged. Angel got up and answered it.

"Hello? This is Angel? What? Angel investigations? Well, thing is, we don't really..……you have demonic slugs turning your garden roses into man-eating houseplants? Ok…umm…what's your address?" he asked, looking over at Giles, who was already looking for books on demon garden pests from among his collection.

* * *

It was around noon, and Buffy and Dawn were shopping on the high street. In the central business district, where shops of all types and sizes existed on virtually every street, the sisters walked around carrying bags of clothes, make up, jewellery and school books. Or at least, Buffy was. Dawn had made her stronger sister the load-bearing cow.

"I still can't believe Giles gave you your own credit card with a ten thousand dollar limit. Surely he must have known you'd blow it all in one day!" scolded Buffy. Dawn shrugged.

"He said it was for 'services rendered to the council in the fight against evil.' In other words, payday at last for the hours I spent looking through dusty old books when I could have been making out with boys. And the limit is ten thousand pounds. He got it from an English bank," Dawn explained as she walked into an indoor shopping arcade. "Oh, lets go in there!" she exclaimed, pointing to an occult shop. It had a bunch of protesters outside it, waving pickets, which read 'Down with black magic', 'get thee behind me Satan,' and 'Mathew 3:16'. This was a common sight these days. As people gradually became more aware of magic, more people rallied against it. According to the news, the first scientific tests on magic were being carried out. Buffy couldn't wait to see how that turned out. Nor could Willow, though for a different reason. She was really curious to see if there indeed was a scientific explanation for magic, all literal contradictions aside.

Buffy and Dawn entered the shop, which was packed so full of people it was hard to move. A young woman dressed as a stereotypical witch, complete with a broomstick and a fake nose, greeted them. Buffy and Dawn exchanged cringes.

"Welcome to the wonderful world of magic. Let me guide you along your mystical journey through the land of the occult," she said mysteriously. Dawn looked at her with near distain.

"Oh come on, we're not new to magic. What you're doing is just…tacky." The woman breathed a sigh of relief and discarded her outfit, revealing a head of blonde dreadlocks, a tie-dye tee shirt and a red and yellow stripy dress.

"Oh thank god," she said in a much more normal voice. "I really hate all that crap, but it sells. Especially now that magic's made the news, you get a load of lookers who don't know the first thing about it!" Buffy grinned and nodded.

"We understand. We used to kinda run a magic shop in Sunnydale, and every Halloween-"

"-Every Halloween," the woman knowingly said at the same time, mirroring her tone and body movements. "Don't I know? But these last few weeks have been like a never ending Halloween. I do more business in a day than I did in a week this time last year!" Buffy nodded in understanding. She looked over the hordes of people who were milling through the relatively small magic shop. Mostly, they were looking at statues of Buddha, crystal balls and ouija boards. Nothing magical there. The storeowner followed Buffy's gaze, smirking where she turned back to her. "Yes, just overpriced, low quality stuff only suckers, or people looking for an aesthetically pleasing paper weight would buy. If you'll follow me to the back, I can show you my real wears," she said, motioning for Buffy and Dawn to follow her behind a door at the back of the shop made of beads. Dawn followed first, then Buffy.

They entered a room that was roughly a third the size of the shop beyond the door. It looked like a warehouse, with the grey bricks of the building totally bare, save for shelves lining the walls. The ceiling was much lower than in the main shop, being only about twice Buffy's height. A single light bulb hung on a cord dimly lit the place. The shelves were filled with books on demonology, and the odd magical trinket adorned the walls. Boxes of unopened merchandise lay stacked everywhere. Dawn's face lit up when she saw the place, deciding to look around.

"Are you looking for anything in particular?" the dreaded woman asked Dawn.

"Not as such, but these books look interesting. I know someone who'd love them!" she said, referring to Giles. "We kind of have a library." The woman looked interested.

"Is it big?" Dawn shook her head.

"It used to be, but…lets just say we're running low on the rarer volumes."

"Do you have the Travaux Domestiques Compendium?" Dawn shook her head, milling over the books they had. "It's a very good magic book. Full of spells for all kind of things like washing the dishes and doing the laundry." Buffy raised an eyebrow.

"Don't we have dishwashers and washing machines for that?" she pointed out. The woman nodded.

"Yes, but we didn't when the book was written, however that's not why I recommended it. I don't exactly get the feeling either of you is an experienced magic user, and that book would be around your level, if either of you is looking to get started?" Buffy looked to Dawn, wondering if Dawn was going to try and get more into witchcraft.

"How can you tell that?" asked Dawn sceptically.

"I can sense mystical energy if I concentrate. It's why I mistook you for amateurs at first." Dawn put on hand on her hip.

"I'm no amateur. I've raised the dead. It was actually really easy. Guess that makes me powerful, huh?" The woman smiled understandingly and shook her head.

"No, it just means you used a very well made spell that did most of the work for you. So, you raised her from the dead?" she said, nodding her head towards Buffy. Dawn shook her head. Buffy looked slightly unnerved.

"No, that was somebody…how'd you know that?" she asked warily, wondering if this woman was more than she claimed to be. The woman gave her answer to Buffy.

"I can tell. I hope you won't take this the wrong way, but death comes off you in waves." Buffy gulped at this statement. It was true in so many ways. She had been dead, she'd caused the deaths of many, many things, and she even hung around with dead guys. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the woman's Anya-like forwardness, Buffy excused herself and returned to the main shop. "Oh dear…It seems I've offended her…" she lamented, feeling kind of bad.

"Don't worry about her, she's always like that. So, what does this thing do?"

* * *

Buffy and Dawn exited the shop, Buffy now carrying several bags more. Dawn had bought eight large books, as well as a host of other items. She'd spent nearly a thousand dollars, something she wasn't going to mention to Buffy. On their way out, they received the dirty glares of the protesters, and even a few taunts like 'Satan's wenches'.

"So, what'd you get?" asked Buffy inquisitively, trying to look in the bags without dropping them or having anything slide out.

"Just some demonology books for Giles and a book of really obscure magic for Willow. And this!" she chirped, showing Buffy a necklace.

"Pretty."

"Yeah, but that's not why I got it. It starts glowing if someone is trying to hurt me. Kind of a warning system. The more it glows, the worse their intent. Pretty cool, huh?" Buffy was certainly impressed.

"Pretty cool. If that thing even embers, you make sure to call me, ok?" Buffy requested. Dawn rolled her eyes, but agreed anyway. They walked on through the arcade, visiting other shops, buying music and clothes. By two o'clock, they were hungry, so they decided to get some lunch in a post-modern bistro.

As they waited for their food, they watched the huge ninety-inch flat screen television mounted on the wall with mild interest. It was the news, and these days all the news was about the supernatural. Murders and high-speed police chases had given way to possible demon sightings and interviews with people who had encountered them. Rumours were flying, but no solid proof had come to light. No demon or vampire had come forward and said 'I'm not human' on television. Buffy supposed it might be because the government was trying to restore some semblance of order to their dealings. She figured it must have come as a big surprise when the secret world of demons, which the government knew all about, suddenly came out into the open. So far, the only official statement was to 'remain calm, stay indoors at night, and don't try and do magic at home.'

Tonight was going to be a big night, according to the anchor on the screen, as tonight the government would announce official policy. After discussing the situation with other world governments, each of which was embarking on their own courses of action, consensus had been reached in the highest echelons of the administration as to how to tackle the new situation.

Buffy looked away from the TV, bored with the endless rumours, most of which were probably true, and looked around. It was mostly empty, despite the time of day. She figured it to be more of a dinner place. She craned her head until someone caught her eye. She looked closer, eyes nearly bugging out at what she saw. Swinging back into her seat, she pointed it out to Dawn, shushing her.

"Is that the governor?" Dawn asked, his face famous throughout California.

"Yes, but that's not who I'm pointing at!" she hissed. "Look who he's talking to!" Dawn waited for the brown haired woman to tip her face so that it would be revealed to Dawn. When she finally did, Dawn nearly fell backwards from the shock too.

"Is that Illyria?" They looked again. Sure enough, Illyria and the governor of California State were talking over a light meal, each laughing at the other's mannerisms. "Oh my god! Is she…networking?" asked Dawn incredulously. Buffy just shook her head in disbelief.

"Seems so…Looks like her career in politics is taking off before mine…" mumbled Buffy to herself. She leaned her ear as close as she could get, her slayer hearing just able to pick up what they were saying.

"Gosh, that's more than I ever dreamed of!" came Fred's accented, almost childlike voice. "But I mean, are you sure? An audience with the president, all to talk about my research? Seems like you're spoilin' me."

Buffy slammed back into the seat, stunned. "What did she say?" whispered Dawn demandingly. Buffy got back into the listening position, trying to stay hidden behind a potted fern.

"Of course. The ministry of defence is very interested in the potential of your research for the war on terror. And with all these monsters suddenly appearing, you never know how useful it'll be." Buffy continued to eavesdrop, but learned nothing more. The rest of their conversation was just about the potential of the research, and what to wear when the president met her. When they were done speaking, the governor paid for both and excused himself. Illyria sat for a few minutes doing nothing, eventually removing a book from a bag she had on the seat next to her. She opened it and began to read.

When the food came, Buffy and Dawn ate quickly, each keeping an eye on Illyria, who was reading the book at incredible speed, flipping the page every few seconds. Her eyes scanned the page downwards instead of side to side, making Buffy wonder if she was even reading it at all. At almost the same time that Buffy and Dawn finished their meals, Illyria finished the book. Putting it aside, she withdrew another one and began to read that one.

"What is she doing?" asked Dawn. Buffy didn't answer at first, as she was deciding what to do. After a few moments, her mind made up, she rose from her seat.

"I don't know, but I'm going to ask her. Dawn, you stay here and pay the bill. I'll be back in a moment."

Dawn watched as Buffy walked over to Illyria, hailing her as she approached. Illyria looked up, surprise evident on her face.

"What are you doing here?" she asked Buffy questioningly. Buffy sat down across from her.

"I was about to ask you the same question," stated Buffy.

"I am reading," said Illyria, holding out her book, one on human psychology.

"Psych 101? Why?"

"To try and understand humans better. This is the ninth such book I have read on the subject. They are full of colloquialisms I do not understand, and often contradict one another. But…they are invaluable none-the-less. I feel I now know far more about humans than I did when I first awakened." Buffy raised her brow, impressed.

"Know thine enemy, huh?" Illyria's brown eyes bore into Buffy's.

"How naive of you to think that a human would ever have the presence to be considered an enemy. No, it is more of a case of knowing how to…'suck up'… to those in power."

"It's always about the power with you, isn't it?" remarked Buffy, shaking her head. "If you like power so much, you should play Age of Empires or Sim City on the computer."

"My experience with video games is that they are a waste of time. Every second played is one lost, seconds that add to hours, hours which could be used to better oneself."

"Yeah, but they're also uber fun!" chirped Buffy, her tone heavily exaggerated. Illyria glared at Buffy, not liking her tone. She may have only been among humans for a short while, but she knew when someone was playing with her. "So…who was your date?" she asked, referring to the governor. Illyria cocked her head at Buffy upon realising that Buffy had been spying on her.

"He was the regent of this jurisdiction. We were talking about the shell's theorems and their future."

"And getting hooked up with the president. Why?" Buffy asked in a newly serious tone. Illyria said nothing. Lying was something she didn't do, in her time deceivers being amongst the lowest of all forms of life, but she would still rather not tell Buffy. "Look, I'm sick of all the secrecy. Every morning you go out and do who knows what, forging all these connections with powerful people for unknown reasons, so you can either tell me now what you're up to, or I can get a gang of slayers together and beat it out of you. Your choice," Buffy threatened, though maintaining a civilised tone. Illyria and Buffy stared each other down, neither willing to give. Through the action, Illyria made it quite clear to Buffy that she wasn't going to give away the ultimate goal of the plan, and dared Buffy to make good on her threat.

After an almost comically long time, Dawn came over and tapped Buffy on the shoulder, breaking her concentration. The battle won, Illyria gathered her books into her shopping bag and took off in great haste. "Dammit Dawn!" Buffy said, frustrated.

"That was cool. I don't think I've ever seen somebody not blink for so long." Giving up, Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Slayer blinking powers. Handy for those times you just don't want to miss a moment during the world cup," she said wryly.

* * *

Buffy and Dawn got back to the hotel around sunset, each exhausted from a long day of shopping. Dawn was carrying bags, as Buffy had had so many by the end that she didn't have room for any more. They'd had great fun driving around in the Viper, impressing almost everybody who saw them, and an even better time shopping. They'd bought so many clothes that Buffy was sure she'd probably never get around to wearing them all. She set the bags down by the door and took in the crowd in the lobby.

There was a thin, tall blonde girl with high cheekbones and gentle blue eyes, who Buffy guessed was the slayer Xander had mentioned, and a young man in a suit, who didn't look unlike Wesley had when she'd first met him, who Buffy guessed was a new watcher. In fact, Willow was the only familiar face there, as Xander's eye patch was gone, a new eye firmly embedded in his skull. Buffy and Dawn both ran over to Xander to get a better look at it.

"Xander, your eye!" they both said. He beamed at them, standing proudly and showing it off. It was one hundred percent identical to his other one in every visible way. "It looks just the same!"

"Doesn't it just, ladies? But it's not, because it's fully equipped with night vision, infrared, zooming capabilities, and is immune to any and all electrical interference, thanks to it being a techno-magical hybrid," he explained in a smug, satisfied tone. "I am now no longer the only member of the gang without some special power. I can get snacks for people at night without turning on the lights!"

"Ahem," came the polite cough of the young man, who had yet to be introduced.

"Oh yeah!" began Xander, slightly embarrassed. "Buffy and Dawn, this Reginald Chamberlain, and Lea von Schwarzburg-Rudolstadt, the vampire slayer. Pretty impressive name, eh?" Buffy nodded, offering her hand to both of them.

"I'm much more impressed that you were able to say it without stumbling. Nice to meet you both," Buffy said, turning from Xander to the pair. "So, are you her new watcher?" she asked. The young man stood with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Yes, but I myself am being trained as a watcher by Xander," he said with a soft tone, very much unlike the pompous Wesley, yet sounding unmistakably upper-class. Buffy looked at Xander, a not too serious look on her face. She could scarcely believe it, but still…she wasn't about to make too much fun of Xander. He did have a huge amount of experience. She just hoped he'd never don the tweed suit.

"Well congratulations Xander. You get to watch a watcher watching a slayer." At that remark, Xander just smiled broadly, knowingly, and bobbed his head up and down. "Where's Giles? I need to speak to him."

"He left a note for us," said Willow, handing it to Buffy. "He and Angel went to slay some evil rose bushes."

"Evil rose bushes?" asked the new slayer in nearly perfect English, her accent present but not overbearing. "Are you serious?" Buffy, Willow and Xander exchanged glances, secret smiles on their faces. This girl was in for many, many surprises.

"Is Spike here?" Buffy asked Willow, ignoring Lea's question.

"Yeah, last time I checked. He's upstairs in his room, watching television."

"Thanks," Buffy said, turning and walking up the stairs towards Spikes room. With every step, her heart began to thump harder within her chest. She hadn't spoken to him since last night, when she had literally pushed him aside after her fight with Angel. Last night…the night they had made love for the first time. Feelings of guilt flooded back, the ones she had been trying all day to forget. She had shagged him, ran after another man, then physically abused him, then left him alone, as usual. She cursed Angel for turning up that moment of all moments. Why not an hour sooner, or several hours later?

She knocked on his door, receiving no answer. She heard a shuffling, then all was still. She entered the dark room without an invitation, the only light being that of the television, which was obscured by a large leather arm chair, which she could see Spike was sitting in. He was holding a nearly empty bottle a Jack Daniels whisky. "Spike"? Buffy asked tentatively, cautiously approaching the chair.

"Yeah?" he replied after a pause. "What can I do for you, Slayer?" he replied, carefully forming his words to avoid stumbling over them.

"Are you drunk?" she asked accusingly, coming around to face him. He looked up at her, his head nearly rolling.

"Yeah. What of it?"

"Nothing. Have you seen Illyria?" Spike eyed her, surprised by the question.

"No. Why d'you you ask?" Buffy sighed and sat down on the arm of the chair. When she did, her scent filled Spike's nostrils. He breathed her in, savouring her.

"I saw her today lunching with the state governor, getting hooked up to the president. She refused to tell me what she's up to. I thought that if you pressured her…she seems to listen to you. You, like, have her on a leash or something." Spike started laughing drunkenly at the statement, realising Buffy didn't know how absurd it was. "Or…not."

"Defiantly not. She's…" he said, swaying slightly. "A goddess. She does as she pleases. Just because I don't annoy her as much as everyone else does not mean that I have her on a lead. And meetin' the prez? I'm impressed. She can do anything she puts her mind to, you know. She's probably seeking the violent overthrow of the government to set up a demonocracy, with herself as monarch or some other bollocks like that. If I see her, I'll ask her, ok?"

"Ok."

"So unless there was something else, I suggest you run along now. I'm sure Angel is waiting for you with some black flowers or bad taste chocolates." Buffy looked down guiltily. She hoped he'd remember what she was about to say in the morning.

"Spike…I am sooo sorry for what I did last night. It was vindictive and heartless." Spike looked at Buffy, looking at the sincerity in her eyes.

"Which part, the running after Angel, or the discarding me after you came back?" he asked, still feeling some spite for her actions. Buffy grabbed his hand and stroked it lovingly.

"Both. Angel's return was…incredibly bad timing, and you didn't deserve to be just pushed aside. I've done that to you enough times." Spike said nothing, just looking away from her, quietly glaring at the wall. Being pushed aside had really hurt. At the time he had been too busy being angry at Angel to notice it, but afterwards it knawed at him from inside. Seeing he was looking at the wall, she slipped into his lap from the arm of the chair. Stroking his face, she brought it around she that he'd look at her. "I'm sorry," she repeated earnestly. He gazed into her eyes and knew that she meant it.

"S'ok luv. I'm used to it. But don't do it again!" he cautioned playfully, earning a loving smile from Buffy. The smiles between them was short lived though, as they had much to sort out. "Now…I understand that you were speaking about…the possibility of me and the ponce sharing you?" he inquired, cocking his head in a drunkenly exaggerated manner. Oh boy, Buffy thought, steeling herself for choppy waters. "Care to explain?" Buffy huffed, thinking of how to put it.

"Well…I love you both. I know you each have a history of hating each other, but…you're both gonna have to get used to the idea that I love the other as well. How do you feel about that?" It was Spike's turn to huff. He remembered what Buffy had said to Angel, and Angel in turn to him. 'I want you both equally, and to not have one of you would slowly kill me inside'. After hearing that, he couldn't bring himself to ever again ask Buffy to forget about Angel.

"Can't say I like it. I like it less that it's Angel. Could be worse though…could be Riley."

"Shut up," Buffy lightly scolded with a coy smile.

"The problem isn't you, and it isn't that I don't hold your undivided affection. For a hundred and twenty I was with a woman who openly preferred Angel to me. You say Angel and I are equals? That's a damn big improvement if you ask me," he said, sitting deeply into the chair. "I love you Buffy, but loving another and actively being with another are different things. I don't know if I could stand it." Buffy lowered her eyes.

"I know it's asking a lot Spike, but I wish you would at least try?"

"Buffy, try looking at it this way. Would you have shared Angel with Faith back when you were in high school?" he slurred. At Buffy's look of abhorrence, he knew she understood. "Now, imagine that, only with a lot longer for tensions to develop?"

"But Faith and I aren't enemies anymore!" Spike rolled his eyes.

"You packed her off to Australia, about as far from you as you could get her! And me an Angel were never enemies! We're just rivals. And trust me Buffy, I'm the one who is least opposed to the idea. You should be convincing him, because at this rate, it's never gonna happen!" Buffy rose from the chair slowly.

"You're right. I should be speaking to him. I know you'll come around if he does. Besides, I want you sober when we talk about this," she said, disappointed with the reception Spike had given her proposal. She left without another word, returning downstairs.

"You can come out now," sighed Spike aloud. A closet door opened, and Illyria stepped out. She walked up behind Spikes chair. "What did she mean you're dining with the big cheese?"

"I was."

"So what're you planning' blue?" Spike asked, only mildly interested. After debating whether or not to tell him, she decided she would, trusting him with the information. After all, it wasn't like she was doing anything evil.

"I intend to acquire the help of the government in using the trans-dimensional machines I built to locate the pocket dimension where the powers that the Mutari generator stole from me are stored. Once I have re-acquired them, I will be strong enough to safely traverse the dimensions I once owned. I will see what remains of my Kingdom in other realms."

"Oh," said Spike, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "And what's to stop you from exploding if you get them all back?"

"After much thinking, I have come to believe that it was the force with which my powers were shoved into this shell that ruptured them. If I ease them in by only regaining them a piece at a time, the shell will adjust accordingly. Perhaps, eventually, even the powers that I once had in the primordium might return, to some degree."

"I see. And why're you telling me this? How do you know I won't go tell Buffy all about your nafarius schemes?" Illyria spun the large armchair around with that statement, causing Spike the drop the now empty bottle on the ground. Resting her weight on its arms, she leaned closer to Spike in a threatening manner.

"Because you won't," she said with conviction. The corner of Spikes mouth twitched, and he chuckled softly.

"But how do you know?" he repeated.

"I…" she trailed off, searching herself for a reason. Relaxing her hostile stance, she pulled back slightly. "Trust you. Maybe I am foolish to trust anybody, but…you are different. Though I haven't a single intimation why, I trust you." She pushed herself away from the seat, turning to pace around the room. "In my time, trust wasn't a word one applied to others. You trusted that the world would turn; that the sun would come up. You trusted that if you slew an enemy, they would die. You never trusted a follower or an acolyte. You never even trusted yourself, as to do so would be the equivalent of having religious faith in yourself: you can't think you exist or believe you exist. You know it." Spinning around to Spike, she continued. "That is what trust meant. It is an alien concept to me here. And yet…I find myself trusting a lowly vampire."

"I'm flattered, luv. Just don't hurt anyone, ok?" he said, leaning out of the chair to try and pick up the bottle of Jack, hoping there was something left in it. Just when he almost had the bottle, which lay outside his reach, he fell out of the chair and landed in a drunken heap. "Oof! Damn, it's empty!" he said upon getting it, throwing it across the room in disappointment.

"Why do you drink?" inquired Illyria. Spike laughed at the question as he stumbled to his feet, nearly falling over when he got there.

"It's called the drowning of the sorrows, pet. You drink enough, you forget about your sorrows. Til the morning, that is, when you have a hanger over, _and_ your sorrows to deal with."

"Does it work?" Spike immediately shook his head.

"Only when you're passed out. Which I think I'm going to be very shortly," he said with a bemused smile, trying to look at Illyria, but the alcohol causing the world to spin out of control. He took one step towards his bed and fell over, Illyria catching him roughly. She looked him in the eyes, their faces almost touching. His gaze was fuzzy, not focaused on a thing. She dragged him over to the bed and helped him get on it. He lay back, resting his head on the pillows. "Thanks luv. If you weren't here, I'd…be sleepin' on the floor tonight…" he closed his eyes, and after a few seconds began snoring. Illyria doubted he'd even remember getting in. Nothing else to do, she left Spikes room and returned to her own.

* * *

Buffy had returned downstairs to try and ring Angel on his mobile, failing, as he didn't pick up. She'd heard he was terrible at answering it, but she couldn't help but wonder if maybe he was just ignoring her. She sighed and sat down. According to Willow, Angel investigations had received another call about some minor supernatural occurrence, and Xander had taken the new watcher and slayer on their first exercise. Buffy told Willow about all that had happened between her and Angel and Spike, once more relying on the red-headed witch for comfort and support.

"Sounds like they need some serious time to work things out. We should lock them in the cage downstairs until they agree to it," remarked Willow, earning a weird look from Buffy.

"There's a cage? Man, Angel really likes his S&M." Willow chuckled at the thought of Angel trying up and whipping people, sobering when she remembered that he actually had, only in a non-consensual way that usually ended up with the victim dying a horrible death.

"It's where they locked up Angelus a couple of years ago. Oh, oh! No more Angelus, ever! Isn't it great? I already feel safer! Not that Angelus could ever pose a threat to me now…I mean, I could just magic him into a ball of flames if need be, but I'm still happy about it! Oh, speaking of which…" she trailed off, pointing behind Buffy. Buffy turned around. Angel and Giles had just entered the lobby, each of them covered in scrapes.

"Man, who knew snap dragons could be so dangerous, huh?" remarked Angel. Giles chuckled agreeably.

"I must say, when it ate me I was a bit worried, but you pulled through in the end," said Giles jovially, slapping Angel on the back. Buffy and Willow exchanged wide-eyed glances.

"Looks like you two have been bonding," said Willow, getting their attention. They looked at her, then at each other, looking away shyly, like they'd been caught with their hand in a cookie jar.

"Lets just say that fighting a demonic garden together makes you rely on one another," said Giles tiredly. "I'm exhausted from that. I think I'll get a shower and go to bed. I might need a tetanus shot as well…" With that, Giles clamoured up the stairs. Angel and Buffy looked at each other.

"You know, I'm also going to go upstairs for a not dissimilar reason. Bye!" said Willow, who hastily followed Giles, leaving Buffy and Angel alone. Angel's light mood leaving him as the memories of the previous night flooded in, he strode over to the weapons cabinet and put his axe back in its place. Closing the doors quietly, he spoke.

"Hello Buffy. Have fun shopping today?" Buffy nodded. "Enjoy the Viper?" She nodded again. "That's…good. It's a good car."

"Angel," she said, changing the tone from small talk to serious. He followed suit, sighing heavily.

"Look, Buffy, I want to apologise for some of the things I said last night. Most of all, I want to say I'm sorry that I made you feel worthless. It was never, ever my intention." Buffy looked around for a while before answering. "You're worth more to me than everything else in the world."

"Do you know why I felt that way?" she asked tersely. He nodded slowly.

"Because…I said I…that is, I indicated that I was disgusted with the idea of…sharing you. With Spike," he said with some difficulty, forcing the words out. "I want you to know that the problem is between me and Spike, not me and you or you and Spike. I don't think you're dirty for wanting both of us. Far from it; I think it means you're not petty."

Buffy smiled at him sadly. "How is it you always say the right things in the end?" He shrugged.

"Being two hundred and fifty years old helps. And I have good motivation." Buffy eased her position into a comfortable stance.

"So your ok with my feelings for Spike?" Angel coughed, looking down.

"I'm…getting used to it. I was kinda away for a while. I guess I also grew to love another…" Buffy furrowed her brow.

"You did? Who?" she asked, slightly hurt, even though she knew she had no right to be.

"Cordellia. We became…close. But she…died. So you see Buffy, I have no right to expect you to love no one but me. I accept that. I hope you realise it." Buffy's hurt became quiet joy, as she felt Angel coming one step closer to her line of thinking. She hoped dearly that one day Angel and Spike would accept each other, and she saw this as the first step. She decided to let go all the animosity she felt towards him for last night, as it was fast becoming far too much effort to remain pissed off.

"So…what are you doing tonight?" Buffy asked. Angel grinned softly.

"Nothing. Wanna catch a movie?" Buffy smiled and nodded. Linking arms, they left the Hyperion to go on a date, Buffy resting her head against Angel's shoulder.

* * *

Phew. This chapter set two personal records for me, being the longest chapter I ever wrote (as of 18/07/06), and making this story the longest in my archive. Hope it was enjoyable. Questions? Comments? Review? 


	7. Boiling Over, pt1

A television played somewhere in the empty abyss. Not a soul was viewing this particular set, though a billion people were watching what was on, viewing countless other sets in countless locations around the globe. The dark room glowed with the white light given off by the box, sometimes so bright as to illuminate the whole room, other times so dim that everything was plunged into the inky blankness.

The president stood up on a podium in the pressroom in the white house, the famous blue symbol highly visible behind him. Cameras flashed endlessly as dozen of journalists frantically tried to get the best possible shot, all the while yelling at him, begging for an exclusive comment.

"My fellow Americans," he began, using the famous opener. When he did, the room fell silent, the liveliness replaced with a muted hush. "And for that matter, my fellow human beings, today we gather to acknowledge and deal with a situation. Rumours have been flying these past few months, but very few countries have officially commented. Chaos engulfs parts of the globe, as rioters and para-militaries seek and destroy anything they believe is 'demonic' in origin, as armies of these creatures ravage parts of the earth.

"But what does it mean? What is happening? Ladies and Gentlemen, what I am about to tell you is no lie, though few people in this day and age would accuse me of lying. Monsters are real. We don't know what they are or where they came from, but they are everywhere. Posing as people, living underground in the sewers, residing in expansive mansions, or just dwelling in a normal suburban neighbourhood. Vampires, devils, animals of apparently supernatural origin, magic, all exist. The death toll is rising every day. This month alone, over ten thousand Americans were killed under suspicious circumstances, such as bite marks on their necks and all their blood drained. People once young are turning up, shrivelled and old in a day, claiming demons stole their time. Countless other horrible things are happening all at once. It can be confusing, and it can be frightening.

"We are doing everything we can, but they have declared war on us, quite literally. We received declarations from several extra-dimensional nations of these beasts, and hordes of them pour forth from portals throughout the globe. We are building our armies and training our police to deal. We will stop this tide of death, and make this planet safe for us once again, mark my words. Unfortunately, it isn't quite as simple as that though…

"Strange as it appears, there are good 'monsters'. We have received admissions from some of them, claiming to want to just live in peace. They say that 'demon kind' is as diverse as the insects that cover this planet, some of them harmless, even beneficial, others deadly scourges. In response to this, any demon that registers with the government shall be placed under US military protection. On the other hand, all armed state personal have been ordered to shoot on site any demon found to be a threat to humanity. Many of these demons have extraordinary powers, including telepathy, powerful magic capable of destroying entire buildings, as we have seen with the destruction of the Sears Tower in Chicago, resulting in over two thousand dead, and even the necessity to use human hosts to breed.

"If you encounter a demon, do not try and harm it. It might be innocent, but it might be extremely dangerous. Many of them are able to overpower even a large group of armed humans. We are doing everything in our power to-" the sounds of gunshots rang throughout the room. The secret service men tried to get the president to safety, but before they could get far the doors blew open, as viewers could tell from the shards of wood that showered the podium. The president backed against the wall in fear, a vampire running to him, breaking his neck and drinking from it. Once having drained the president, the powerful looking vampire stood in front of the camera. He stared into it for a while, amber eyes boring into it, trying to instil fear in all those watching.

"Friends! Vampires! Countrymen!" he quoted with an inspired, and perhaps exaggerated tone. "The twilight of man is neigh! It is time to take to the streets, and create vampire armies from the dead carcasses of the humans! This is the promised time, when the demons will take back what is rightfully theirs! I call on every demon in every world to set aside their differences, and unite to destroy man!" The screen went fuzzy, soon to be replaced by the white noise of nothingness, the static casting a dull, constant glow against the room which housed it.

* * *

Angel, Buffy and Spike walked through the park at night, Buffy in between the two vampires, linking arms with each. These past few months had been a harrowing experience to say the least, in so many ways. The murder of the entire administration on live TV had been hailed as the most shocking event in US history, even surpassing the attacks on Pearl Harbour, New York and Chicago. The country had almost slipped into anarchy when a legion of demons sacked the capitol the next day, wiping out the House of Representatives and the Senate, along with many government buildings. The army was called in, and eventually defeated the estimated forty thousand demons before they had a change to burn the city to the ground. Fortunately, the previous administration had taken over de facto control of the country, being the very first un-elected government to do so. Some people hailed it as the end of democracy, but most people were just relieved to have order maintained. It truly seemed like the world was slipping.

Several of the central states had even attempted to secede from the union, claiming that the federal policy of not exterminating good demons was an affront to the lord. Many of them were acting outside the law, exterminating every demon they could find, being only formally under any national jurisdiction. The rest of the world wasn't faring much better. Most of Africa had started a witch-hunt, one in which nobody was safe. Asia was only slightly better, India suffering massive food shortages due to a demonic plague and China's government loosing control of the country. Europe was being torn in half, some states advocating universal suffrage for non-evil demons, others insisting the demon threat be destroyed, citing the near-collapse of the US as evidence that demons were out for blood. International relations were almost non-existent, as every country was too busy with internal problems to worry about this war or that trade agreement.

Of course, human mages, witches, warlocks, as well as benevolent demons did their best to use their powers to bolster humanity, but it seemed evil magic users were always one step ahead of them, undoing their work almost as soon as they had cast it. Add into the equation that even good magic users were being sought out and destroyed by religious fanatics, and it seemed the odds were solidly against them.

California had been relatively calm. In San Francisco, the mayor had used his influence to protect demons. It had become the self proclaimed 'demon capital of the world.' Many of its human residents had left in fear or disgust, but many more had moved in to take their place, thinking the idea of having a demon next door neighbour was the coolest thing ever. As most of the demons had registered on entering the city, it had become fortified with US soldiers, making sure extremists couldn't enter, though they had their hands full. Thousands of people came to the city to protest, and in some cases to try and exterminate the demons themselves, but were turned away by large military blockades.

In LA, many actors had come out as being demons, shocking the world. Who knew that Johnny Depp was actually a Brachen demon, or that Stuart Townsend was indeed a vampire? This had led the uptown areas of the city being known as Devil's Island. Although in some parts of the city, demons could walk in the streets, in others if you were even suspected of being otherworldly, you were in serious risk of being murdered by a mob of vigilantes, or even by police officers that didn't obey the rules.

The estimated worldwide death toll due to demonic activity was over ten million. Any argument that Dawn had once had about the spell being better gone had dried up. At least with the spell in place, armies from other dimensions weren't rampaging throughout the world. However, nearly half of those deaths we actually caused by humans killing other humans, either mistaking them for demons, or out of malice for using magic.

Though the world was in shambles, there honestly wasn't much she could do about it. Compared to the national armies of the world, with their aircraft, tanks, missiles and machine guns, even a thousand slayers seemed insignificant. It seemed that along with the spell, the usefulness of a teenaged girl with medieval weaponry had gone too. Of course there would always be things that only the slayer could do, but they were becoming fewer and further between.

However, the state of the world wasn't the only thing Buffy had to contend with. Angel and Spike were major sources of stress themselves. She'd talked many times with both of them about the possibility of sharing her, first singly and then together, but each time it ended up with both of them sullenly glaring at each other, or walking out on her. Eventually she had stopped trying to actively convince them, and things had improved. Now they had even reached the stage where they could both be in the other one's company on not fight over her like children. She spent time with each of them alone, sometimes kissing, but never anything more, and she never showed more affection than a kiss on the cheek when they were all together, though Buffy wanted to so badly.

Oh well. She was willing to wait, and _they_ certainly weren't getting any older. She believed that the key to their lack of participation lay rooted somewhere in the past, a nagging suspicion she was now trying to explore.

"So, why do you guys hate the Immortal so much?" Buffy asked, itching to know. As soon as she said it, they both began raging about how sneaky and terrible he was, how he may or may not be evil, and how he always outdid them in everything.

"How could we not?" asked Angel incredulously.

"He's nasty-" came from Spike.

"Vile-"

"Abhorrent-"

"Scheming-"

"Connivin'-"

"And so sexy!" chimed Buffy in an obvious effort to break their ranting. "Not to mention great in bed!" the two vampires shut up and glared. "You still haven't told me why you hate him so much!"

"And we never will. Ever. End of story, luv!" insisted Spike, indirectly admitting there was some other, more serious reason they didn't like The Immortal. Buffy shook her head at him, turning to Angel, who shook his in a 'I'm not telling you jack' manner.

"I agree with Spike. He's too horrible to talk about, so don't ask." Angel was annoyed at Spike for spilling. He knew Buffy was going to pursue an answer until she got one.

"Jeeze…ok guys. No need to get shirty," she said, using a word she learned from Spike, but still wasn't sure what it meant. The two men on her arms did though, so she didn't pay it much thought. "I won't ask again." Angel smiled apologetically at her.

"That's probably for the best," he said, relieved she was dropping it, but not believing for a second she had given up. Buffy rolled her eyes.

"So I guess I'll just add that to my list of things to never bring up with you guys. That, along with-" she said, silenced by Angel and Spike suddenly stopping, holding their fingers to their lips in a shushing motion. They were craning their necks around to hear better.

"What is-" Buffy began, but was instantly hushed by both of them. After a few seconds, she heard it too. It was the sound of shouting and running. From the far end of the path they walked, she could see a figure running at high speed towards them, followed by a large mob, it's members carrying baseball bats, cheap model swords, guns, and flaming torches. Buffy briefly wondered where they got the torches.

"HEELLLLPPP!" roared the figure as it came closer to the three almost-lovers. She recognised him as the pimply, underweight vampire she had promised not to stake in that bar several months ago. He ran to Buffy, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her. "Oh god am I glad to see you! Slayer, you gotta help me! They're trying to kill me!" She would have burst out laughing if the mob hadn't been hot on his tale.

"Me? Help you? You're a VAMPIRE," she pointed out, her lips saying the last word in an exaggerated manner. "I kill vampires. I'm the legendary Sunnydale slayer, remember?" He looked at Angel and Spike.

"But…they're vampires!" Buffy rolled her eyes.

"They have souls," she said as though it were obvious.

"I have a soul! And besides, you have a record of not killing people just because they're not people, which is more than you can say for those guys!" he exclaimed. Buffy looked at him like he'd grown another head.

"No you don't! You're lying just to get me to help you! And I DO kill vampires, because vampires are evil," she explained to him as though he were a child. He nodded frantically.

"Yeah, ok, I don't have a soul. But please help anyway! They're almost here!" Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Fine. But after this you better convince me not to stake you!" With those words, she grabbed him by the hand and took off, Angel and Spike following. Gradually, they outran the mob, which grew tired trying to keep up with preternaturally strong beings. Making their way into an alley just beyond the park, she pulled out a stake and held it to his chest. "Convince me."

"Oh, god…umm…I can work for you? I'll get all the gossip on the streets and tell you and your slayer chums! I can help you!"

"I've already got lots of cronies. About three thousand of 'em. And none…well, almost none of them are murders. Why should I let you go onto the streets?" she asked passive aggressively.

"Because I promise to adhere to a pigs blood only diet for the rest of my life! Just…I don't want to die! Again! The first time was bad enough!" Buffy stared down the terrified vampire, who she remembered was even younger than she was. She thought she must have been going crazy, because she took pity on the pathetic creature and lowered her stake.

"Alright. You work for me now. But I want assurances you won't kill!"

"That's easy luv, I got'em right here-" said Spike, who reached his hand into the vamped out kids' mouth, and in one motion ripped his fangs out. The vampire screamed, clutching his mouth, blood pouring through his fingers. Spike handed them to Buffy, who looked at them disgustedly. Taking them back, Spike put them in his pocket, saying they'd be useful for spells. Getting over her initial shock and revulsion of Spike mutilating him, Buffy crossed her arms threateningly.

"Ok kid, I want updates every other day, you got it? Come to the Hyperion hotel, and knock on the doors. You may not come in."

"Ok, ok!" he cried, still holding his mouth.

"Now, what can you tell me about word in the underworld? Any events I should know about?" De-vamping to make the fang holes vanish, he began, very eager to please his new boss.

"Well, a load of vampires joined this world-wide crusade, especially the older ones. They killed a whole bunch of people and made'em all into vampires. There must've been an army of about three hundred in LA alone. Anyway, they were wiped out by a combination of air strikes, tanks, angry mobs, each other's bickering, and sunlight. They are a few left, killing whenever they can, but that defeat really rattled the vampire community. Apparently there hasn't been a defeat that bad since the vampire crusades of the eleventh century were smashed by these dudes called the Knights of Byzantium. The bars are almost empty. Most of the good demons have fled, either to SF up north, or back to their home dimensions. Most of the evil demons are dead or on the run. I mean, at first we had the element of surprise, but now that people know what to expect, the forces of darkness have suffered heavy causalities. We're being bolstered by reinforcements from the demon realms, but I'd say the native evil demon population is down by about eighty five percent! Only the smart ones and the very powerful ones are still going strong." That was interesting, thought Buffy. It seemed like her work was being done for her.

"Anything else?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah. I know you have it in for a certain law firm," he said, looking at Angel. "Wolfram and Hart is looking for some kind of thing that has great power, yada yada yada. They really want it bad." Angel narrowed his eyes.

"What kind of thing?" he demanded. The vampire shrugged.

"Dunno. Rumour has it that it's to try and reconnect to their bosses or something." Angel and Spike exchanged looks.

"Care to give us anymore info, mate?" asked Spike. The vampire shook his head, saying that was everything. Angel slammed him against the wall.

"Well you had better find out, ok?" Angel threatened. After holding him there for a second to make his point, he released the young vampire, turned around and stalked away.

"Ok, I think we're done here," said Buffy, following Angel, giving her new informant a warning glance.

* * *

"That was barbaric, Spike!" reprimanded Buffy as they re-entered the hotel.

"Oh come on, he's evil!" Spike argued.

"It's still no excuse to be cruel." Spike just rolled his eyes.

"If I hadn't done that, he'd be off eating a person right now!" Buffy relented, honestly just lecturing Spike because she felt it was right, not because she really cared about the vampire's dental bills. She walked around the lobby, looking to see if anyone was around. She could see a number of young girls in Angel's office, being lectured to by Xander. He was talking animatedly, regularly referring to a diagram on a large sheet of paper on the wall. Nothing out of the ordinary there…he'd been tutoring slayers and watchers alike for the last few months, taking his job to heart.

Buffy turned back to Spike and Angel, only to see the latter's coat disappear around the corner at the top of the stairs. She stared after it, thinking it was unusual for Angel to storm off these days. Since they had talked about their feelings and their hopes, Angel had been spending less and less time brooding, and more and more time trying to outdo Spike in the 'impress Buffy' department.

"Spike, where'd Angel go?" she asked. Spike looked up the stairs and shrugged.

"Dunno. Must miss sitting alone in dark rooms." A few seconds after he said that, a wicked grin spread across Spike's face. He started sauntering towards Buffy. "Now that we're alone, Buffy, I think we can…spend some quality time together?" Even as he approached, she had folded her arms in smug amusement. By the time he had wrapped his arms around her waist, she had progressed to rolling eyes. His mouth hovering just above hers, ready to plunge forward and ravish her in a kiss, Buffy pulled back, dislodging herself from his embrace.

"I'm going to check on Angel," she said, emphasising the fact that she wasn't going to be making love to him for the time being. Spike clenched his jaw with amused beguile as he watched Buffy chase after Angel. Again. He consoled himself by remembering that she and Angel has still only ever done it the one time, whereas he and Buffy had done it many times, in many different ways. That made him smirk for a while. As well, Spike hadn't gone evil and tried to kill her after making love, though come to think of it he had tried to kill her a lot when they first met. He chuckled when he thought about how far they'd come, and how far she and Angel hadn't come.

* * *

Buffy opened Angel's door without knocking, feeling perfectly comfortable just entering his room without an invitation; they'd recently grown close enough to not need to be invited in. He regularly walked into her room, once even catching her in a towel. Though he'd been embarrassed, she hadn't been. In fact, she'd insisted he stay to talk about the thing he'd come to her in the first place for while she got dressed.

Angel was sitting in his brooding chair, as Buffy had come to call it, head resting on his hands. He looked up at her upon her entry, dark eyes saying all Buffy needed to know about his present mood. Her very presence in turn told him why she had followed him.

"You want to know what's bothering me, don't you?" he asked resignedly, knowing that she wasn't going to let him bottle it up.

"Yeah," she whispered. She stepped over to his chair, sitting on the bed beside it. "If it's about us-"

"-It's not," he interrupted, trying to manage a reassuring smile, but failing. That was all Buffy could think it might be, so she decided to remain silent and let him tell her. "I've been thinking a lot lately…the world is in a state. Thanks to me," he confessed, looking over at Buffy as he said the last part. She looked intently at him, urging him to go on. "I destroyed the Circle, causing the spell to collapse. And now…the country is falling apart. Civil war is right around the corner. I mean, you've seen the news! Ten million dead, and rising at a rate of thirty thousand every day. I've made things worse, Buffy. I…I don't know what to do…" he despaired. Buffy had to admit that on the surface, he did seem responsible, but it had never crossed her mind to blame him.

"No Angel. I know it seems that way, but it isn't. For starters, there were, what, fifty thousand vampires in the world? And each of them killed at least once a night on average. Only then, it never made it to press because of the spell. Now, people are killing vampires left right and centre. There're probably five times fewer vampires around today then there were last year. How can that be bad? And lets not forget that you stopped THE apocalypse. The big one; the apocalypse to end them all."

"More like postponed-" he tried to rationalise, half-shrugging. He blamed himself, and people defending him didn't feel right.

"It doesn't matter!" Buffy broke in. "The point is, it was coming. By the sounds of it, it wasn't a long way off, and now it is, because of you. You and Spike and your friends. I know the world looks bad now, but it's just the shock of the demon world. When the dust settles, things will be back to normal, only with the demons and vampires almost gone. I mean, every day in the news you read about a demon uprising being put down by the military, the police, or even gangs of vigilantes with stakes. The age of demons is ending Angel, and it's because of you," Buffy finished, grasping his hand reassuringly and smiling at him lovingly. He tried to return her smile, but soon gave up, reverting back to his melancholy demeanour when he thought about the people dying on the streets right now.

"Maybe, but that doesn't save the millions starving in the third world because of magic plagues unleashed by evil demons," he said darkly. Buffy sighed when she thought of those poor people, many of them infected with hideous magic ailments from eating the unnaturally diseased crops.

"That may be Angel, but lets not forget that millions of people were already starving. If anything, this new wave has caused people to take more notice. In the long run, people will benefit. Do you get what I'm saying?"

"Yes. But I still can't take solace in the fact that people are suffering, even if there are long-term benefits to it. It makes me feel as though I'm treating them like numbers. I did enough of that working at Wolfram and Hart. I faced so many moral dilemmas then, like letting evil demons away with murder. But I had a goal then, so I had to shove the victims out of my mind, or else I'd fail. Now that I've succeeded, I can't not look back and see the damage I've done, even if it was for the greater good. Am I making any sense?" he asked Buffy searchingly. She leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips, pulling back after a few seconds.

"All the sense in the world. Angel, don't beat yourself up over it. When I took several dozen young girls into the hellmouth, I knew many of them would die. But I did what I had to do, because if I didn't, an army of darkness would walk the earth." Angel though deeply about it, wanting so bad to just forget about the bad and focus on the good. Didn't he deserve some peace? "Although in retrospect that wouldn't have been such a bad thing: The air force could have just carpet-bombed them like they do with the armies of darkness walking the earth nowadays…" Her perspective drew a grin and a chuckle out of Angel. He felt better. Maybe she was right. Maybe this would all blow over. For the first time in hours, he didn't feel like he was responsible. He and Buffy spent several minutes in a pleasant silence.

"Oww," said Angel, breaking the peace, earning a questioning glance from Buffy. "Oww! Oh….damn!" he shouted, clutching his head with both hands as a vision ripped through him.

"Oh my god, Angel! What's wrong!"

"A…vision!" he managed to get out through the pain. Buffy's eyes widened. She'd learned from Giles that Angel was now a seer, but she hadn't a clue the visions would be so painful. She steadied him by grasping his shoulder, holding firm until the pain subsided and he stopping jerking. He sank into the chair, exhaling shakily, near panic in his eyes. "Oh. My. God...Buffy, get Illyria and Willow! We're going to San Francisco, _now_!"

"What? Why?" she asked, trying to comprehend what he was saying.

"**_Just do it_**!" he snapped. The fear in his eyes unnerved Buffy. Not needing any further encouragement, she sprinted to the stairs, Illyria's room being on the top floor. Angel grabbed his jacket from his bed and got the keys to his viper. He then ran downstairs as fast as his vampire speed could carry him, finding Spike reading the newspaper. "Spike, I had a vision. We're going to San Francisco right now. Get ready," he ordered in a tone so dark that even Spike wasn't going argue. Within thirty seconds, Buffy and Illyria came running down the stairs. He looked at Buffy frantically.

"Where's Willow? We need her to teleport us!" he shouted. Buffy shrugged, shocked by his sudden outburst. He wasn't ever like this.

"She's not here," said Spike cautiously. "Didn't she say something about being out of town for a magic field trip with her school?" Angel shot a fearsome look at Spike, angry at Spike for telling him such bad news. "So are you gonna tell us whose dying? You seem kinda edgy," stated Spike in deadpan. Ignoring Spike, Angel raked his brain for more information. That was only the second meaningful vision he'd ever had, and the last one he received hadn't been on a timer. He wasn't sure how long they had. When he had first gotten it, he hadn't even bothered to figure out how much time they had. All he could see was that dreaded L.E.D timer counting down to zero.

"I think…we have a few hours. We don't need to be there instantly…but if we're gonna get there without magic, we gotta make it fast! Lets go." He ran out the front doors, expecting the rest to follow him, which they did. He threw himself into the viper, the compact car being parked just outside. He turned the engine on, revving it furiously. Spike, Illyria and Buffy all got in, Buffy and Illyria in the back, Spike in the front. Not even waiting for the doors to close, Angel slammed his foot to the floor, the car's wheels turning without the car moving, the screeching sound ringing down the street. As the car shot off, Buffy sat forward, leaning between the two front seats.

"Angel, care to tell us what you saw?" she asked. Angel took several hurried breaths, trying to control his breathing. For someone who didn't need to breath, he was very nearly hyperventilating.

"A bomb. A nuclear bomb. Somebody is going to try and destroy San Francisco, almost certainly because it's become a demon haven," he explained with gritted teeth. Buffy gasped, sinking back into her seat. "I saw it. It's on a ship bound for Fisherman's Wharf. It's about ninety miles off the coast."

"Damn…" said Spike, shocked almost beyond words. He suddenly became panicked. "We're not gonna make it, Angel! It's hundreds of miles away, and this car isn't _that_ fast!" Almost as if to debunk the statement, Angel sped up as fast as the car would go, nearly two hundred miles an hour.

"I know. We're not driving there. We're going to go to the airport and steal a plane. Buffy, call Giles or Xander or anybody, and try to get in touch with Willow!" he ordered, tossing her his phone. She obeyed mechanically. She didn't even want to think of the consequences if they failed.

They shot towards the airport as lightning speed. Though several police cars started to pursue, they simply couldn't keep up with the viper, eventually breaking off their doomed pursuit. Within ten minutes, they reached the outer-most areas of the airport's land. Huge aeroplanes blinked their lights in the darkness, some taking off, others landing. Angel approached the large fence that blocked their path and smashed through it, shattering the windshield of the viper. The car's occupants were showered with glass right after they were violently jerked around in their seats. Blazing along the runways, they approached a private jet, which was being boarded by several men in suits. Angel slammed on the breaks, skidding for many metres before coming to halt, leaving long trails of tyre marks behind them.

The four of them leapt out of the car, bracing themselves for the fight they were about to have with the armed guards. The men, who seemed to be in the secret service, pulled out guns and fired, hitting Angel and Spike in the chest. The two vampires threw themselves at the men. In moments, the agents were down, and the four ran up the stairs onto the plane. Once in, Illyria dug her fingers into the steel of the stairs and ripped them from the jet, pushing the large stair-mobile away from the plane. She pulled the door shut, while Angel went to the cockpit. The plane was a typical private jet. About a dozen seats were scattered here and there. It was just big enough to stand up in. Several well-dressed, terrified looking men were exchanging glances, whispering to each other. After a moment, the plane began moving. It got into position on the runway and sped up. The force of the acceleration took Illyria by surprise, knocking her off her feet, much to her displeasure. Spike and Buffy were holding onto seats and digging their feet into the floor in an effort to remain standing. Soon, the rumbling stopped and they were in the air.

Angel stepped out of the cockpit, panting, but looking considerably calmer than he had been before. "Ok, we're on our way. There's not much else we can do until we land." He sat down next to one of the passengers, rolling his head to look at the man next to him.

"Are we hostages?" the balding man asked bravely, looking at each of Buffy, Angel, Spike and Illyria in turn. Angel shook his head.

"No. We just need to get to San Francisco, fast." The man nodded, not really sure what to make of the statement, unable to think of any reason urgent enough to drive people to hijack a plane and kidnap its passengers. After a long silence, the man dared to speak again.

"You're demons," he stated. Spike raised his eyebrow.

"How'd ya tell?"

"Well…there's her," he said, motioning to Illyria. Spike snorted.

"How do'y know that's not just a human wearing lots of blue make up?"

"Well…I don't. But you two have both been shot several times. It's kinda a giveaway." Spike shrugged admittedly

"Yeah, we're vampires, she's a god, and…well, Buffy's human," he said, pointing at the blonde Slayer. The man raised an eyebrow.

"Your name is Buffy?" When most people asked that, it was because they thought it was a bizarre name, but he was asking it to make sure. He wanted to know as much about these people as possible so that he could report it later. Buffy obviously picked up on his intentions, as she stiffened. It suddenly hit home just how illegal what they were doing was. Sometimes being so entangled in the underworld made her forget about the human world and its laws.

"Yeah. But you're not hostages. We're not asking for anything, and we'll let you go when we get to our destination," she reassured. Nobody spoke for some time. Spike and Angel just walked around, and Illyria occupied herself by gazing out the window.

"So what's your name?" Buffy asked the bald man. He pushed his glasses up. He was short and thin. In fact, his shape reminded Buffy of principal Schneider.

"I'm Martian Jenkins. I'm a judge," he replied cautiously. Buffy was trying to make him feel safer, but he was still suspicious of her. "I preside over the California superior court."

"Well Martin, I'm Buffy, and I'm a vampire slayer. Do you know what that is?" He raised a brow.

"I'm guessing it's someone who slays vampires," he stated blandly. Spike sniggered at his boldness.

"Yeah. Which makes me a good guy. Look, something big is going down in San Fran, and I need to be there to stop it. I promise no harm will come to any of you, ok?" she said with empathy. "Please believe me?" she begged. She hated causing other people distress, and she was going to try and do everything she could to alleviate it. He looked her in the eye, and for some reason, he felt like he could trust her.

"I do."

* * *

The plane touched down in San Francisco international, a fierce rumbling overtaking the cabin. Police cars and fire engines were lining the runway, obviously having been informed of the planes arrival.

"Looks like they've tracked us," said Spike as he peered out the window. "What's the plan?" Angel had been in deep thought for most of the journey, various scenarios playing out in his head. Accordingly, he had everything worked out in his head. He just hoped the layout of the city hadn't changed too much since 1969.

"We get out and steal a fire truck. Using it, we get to the wharf and grab a boat."

"And what if there're no boats?" asked Spike.

"Then we swim," answered Angel, looking down. The rumbling slowed and eventually ceased as the plane came to a stop. The door opened, the fresh sea breeze entering the cabin quickly. "Showtime."

He jumped out of the plane, landing on the ground below. Spike, Illyria and Buffy followed. The blinking lights of three dozen emergency vehicles grew closer. With a vampiric snarl, Angel sprinted into the sea of police cars and fire trucks, followed a moment later by the others. When he was in range, he leapt onto the roofs of one of the moving fire trucks, landing with a thud. He pulled a fireman out and tossed him to the ground, where he landed hard and started rolling. Angel was soon joined on the roof by the others. Spike grabbed the driver from his seat and discarded him in a similar way. Shots began to ring out as some police officers fired on them. Bullets whizzed past the gang like invisible flies buzzing around their heads. Angel and Spike swung into the now empty cabin, Angel taking the drivers seat. Buffy and Illyria followed a moment later.

"Get ready guys, we're in for a rough ride," warned Angel as he floored it, the truck speeding up with impressive acceleration. He drove to the edge of the airport, once more slamming through the fence. In this instance, the fence led directly onto the freeway. He swung to the right, trying to get back on track, but was unable to miss everything. He smashed sidelong into a car, crushing it against the barrier dividing the two sides of the road. He pulled away as soon as he could, leaving the smashed car behind.

Travelling at around a hundred miles an hour, they rocketed towards the city, it's skyline very close, rising up as the hills rose. They passed a sign saying off-ramp: one-quarter mile, and Angel informed them they were getting off there. Closing fast was a checkpoint, much to their dismay. A tank and several humvees, as well as about twelve armed soldiers blocked the way. As the soldiers saw the truck approaching, clearly having no intention of stopping, they opened fire.

"Get down!" shouted Angel. The four of them ducked their heads a mere second before the windshield was riddled with bullet holes. After a few seconds it fell away, wind slamming into the cabin. A gasket blew, and steam started spewing from the engine. Clangs and sharp sounds resounded through the truck as bullets ricocheted against the steel frame. "Hold on tight guys!" he said. They braced themselves for impact. Angel rammed the fire truck into the side of a humvee, lifting it off its wheels and sending it tumbling. A tremendous shock rippled through the truck, causing one of the ladders to become dislodged. A rear wheel was blown out as the soldiers continued to fire on them, even as they went down the off-ramp, arriving deep in the inner city. Buffy looked out the window, seeing several of the humvees in pursuit, the airport's police cars backing them up.

"This is fun," quietly remarked Illyria with a smile.

"Shit! Angel, they're following!" Buffy yelled as loud as she could so that her voice would be heard over the roar of the wind blowing in their faces.

"I've got an idea," said Spike, looking out the window. "Illyria, come with me!" he instructed, climbing out the window and getting onto the roof. Illyria climbed over Buffy and got on the roof after Spike. "Blue, grab that hose there and point it at them!" he yelled. She did so, grabbing the fireman's hose and aiming it at their pursuers. Spike knelt down and turned a valve, releasing pressurised water from within the truck. It shot at the humvees with such force that it cracked the windows. Two of the three swerved off the road, one crashing into a lamppost, the other crashing into a police cruiser. The last humvee broke off pursuit. The police cars remained further behind, out of the range of the water.

Angel drove down to the wharfs, looking out over the bay whenever there was a gap in the buildings. After several long periods of buildings blocking everything, he spotted the ship he'd seen in his vision. "There it is!" he shouted, pointing to a large cargo ship, stacked with steel containers. It was remarkably close to land, probably to explode as close to the demon-infested city as possible. He drove for another few relatively uneventful minutes, the police cruisers not daring to come too close. The rubber on the rear wheel had come away, and they were now driving on the rim. Angel could feel himself loosing control of the vehicle. When they were as close to the ship as they could get, he slowed to a stop. They all fled the fire truck and ran to the far end of the pier. They were a mere stones throw away. Preparing to dive into the water, Angel and Spike took off their jackets, but Illyria stopped them.

"I can get you there, but I must stay behind," she said, blue eyes staring out over the water.

"But you can't teleport!" dismissed Spike. She cocked her head and smiled broadly at Spike, unnerving him. "What are you…hey! HEY!" he roared as she grabbed him, spun him around several times, and flung him with tremendous force toward the ship. He sailed through the air, his cries of shock getting ever more distant. He landed on the deck with a thud, rolling into a metal crate with a grunt. A few moments later, Angel landed on top of him. They both got up, rubbing their heads. "That harlot! She didn't even ask!" Spike said angrily, glaring at the now distant form of Illyria, who was now throwing Buffy. "She enjoyed that!" Spike and Angel watched as Buffy flew towards them, landing on her feet, albeit painfully.

"Woa!" exclaimed Buffy, wincing from the pain in her knees. "Damn, she must have thrown us sixty or seventy feet!" she exclaimed, judging the distance as she looked back to the city.

"Yeah? Well at least you had warning!" pointed out Spike.

"Spike, Buffy! The bomb? It's on the deck somewhere! We gotta find it!" Angel said, snapping their attention back to the mission. They looked around, searching between every crate. They looked in every crack they could find, even looking on top of the containers, but found nothing. Angel punched a container in anger.

"What about up there?" Buffy asked, pointing to the bridge, which towered over the rest of the ship. "It's possible the bomb was moved since you had the vision!" Angel and Spike took one look at it and sprang into action, running up steps until they came to the door. Buffy kicked it in and entered. The bridge was empty, save for a black device in the middle.

It was most certainly a nuclear bomb. It was large, with a 'radiation danger' sign on it, and had a panel with numbers and a timer. Buffy ran over to the bomb, looking it over frantically. She spied something that made her heart nearly stop in her chest.

The timer read 00:00:18.

All passion suddenly drain from her body. Putting her hands over her mouth, she stood looking at it as it counted down. No words needed to be said. They didn't know how to disarm it, and didn't have enough time to figure it out. Numbly, Angel put his arms around Buffy and held her, clenching his teeth. Spike looked solemnly at the steel floor, resigned to his fate. He knew that nuclear bombs couldn't be deactivated by plummeting them or by breaking their activation devices. Only total destruction could nullify them.

00:00:08

"Hi guys!" came a chirpy voice from behind them, causing them all to jump with surprise.

"Willow!" exclaimed an awe-struck Buffy. "You came!" Willow nodded.

"Yep, got your message and tele-" she began, but stopped when Buffy grabbed her and dragged her to the bomb, which read 00:00:04. Her eyes widened. She had planned to magically stop the timer, but the spell she'd prepared would take at least ten seconds to perform. She waved her hands over it frantically and pointed suddenly forward, towards the Pacific Ocean. The bomb vanished in a puff of magical energy. Seconds later there was a flash of searing, blinding light, followed by a sound so loud Buffy thought her ears would explode. The group shielded their eyes with their hands, slowly lowering them when the light subsided. They leaned forward, looking out the bridge window to get a better view. On the horizon, some miles beyond the Golden Gate Bridge, was a huge mushroom cloud, still glowing brilliantly from the heat as it rose thousands of feet into the air. A few seconds more, and a huge wind arrived, rocking the ship violently. Many of the crates slid into the water, their harnesses snapping. Buffy thought for a moment that the ship was going to capsize, but it pulled through, despite the large amounts of water on its deck due to winds kicking up enormous waves. Gradually, the cloud cooled to the point that it no longer glowed, fading into the darkness of night.

"………….Nice timing, Red," Spike said eventually, his voice laced with relief. "Thought we were finished."

"Yeah, way to save the day Willow!" said Buffy appreciatively. Angel nodded his thanks, but his smile quickly turned into a frown.

"Yeah, but you can bet this will have repercussions. The government is going to blame somebody, and whoever they do will soon find themselves at war." The gang agreed grimly. The bomb was still going to do some damage. Whatever it was, they were just going to have to wait and see…

They all jumped in fright once again when Angel's phone rang. Spike glared at him, his nerves frazzled enough without needing more strain. Angel grinned sheepishly and answered it. He said hardly anything, merely listening, the grin vanishing, his face growing darker with every word. After a minute he hung up and turned to Buffy, an expression of loathing on his features.

"What is it?" asked Buffy, a feeling of dread growing inside her.

"It's Wolfram and Hart. They've kidnapped Dawn."

"They…" began Buffy, trailing off, too angry for words. She really didn't like those lawyer. Clenching her fists, she started to walk.

"Then we'll just have to get her back!" he said firmly.

"Why'd they want her?" asked Spike, fearing he already knew the answer. Angel frowned one of the deepest frowns Buffy had ever seen on him.

"The firm is going to use her power as Key to re-connect to the senior partners."


	8. Boiling Over, pt2

"The firm is going to use her power as Key to re-connect to the senior partners," said Angel. Buffy snapped her head to him. Spike and Willow knit their brows in worry.

"What?" Buffy said darkly, looking at Angel, hoping that there was some kind of mistake. He gazed back at her, not about to repeat himself because he knew Buffy had heard him. The firm was going to use Dawn's power as Key to re-connect to the senior partners. The very idea sent chills down her spine. The last time Dawn had been used as key, she had nearly died, and Buffy _had_ died.

"Apparently…by using her to connect to the home office, the partners can cast a spell in this dimension, one which would give a new conduit the ability to liaise," managed Angel, pained to say it because of how pained Buffy was by it. "It will probably be the beginning of a new Circle of The Black Thorn." He was loathed to think of the partners being back in the game, but he knew that Buffy was more worried about her sister. Buffy's mouth was dry. She could hardly formulate a sentance.

"How…did we find this out?" she said quietly. A pained look shot across Angel's features. After a moment of hesitating, trying to word it properly, he told her.

"A Wolfram and Hart swat team attacked Dawn when she was at school earlier today. They…murdered her entire class. Fortunatly, Dawn went to school with a slayer. The slayer took down one of the abductors before she was shot. He's in the Hyperion now. Giles interrogated him and found out the plan," he managed to squeeze out. Buffy was silent. "Buffy, we'll get her back, I promise!" insisted Angel in a determined voice. Buffy ignored his tone for the most part, focusing on the timing.

"But school was over by the time you had the vision…god, they've had her all day! And we didn't notice, because I don't ask her where she goes after school anymore because she's 18!" she said with horror. Buffy steepled both hands over her nose. "I can't believe I'd be so careless! It's my fault!" Tears started to form at the thought that it might already be too late. Before anybody could try and console her, she turned furiously to Willow, her eyes now full of rage and determination.

"Willow, get us back to LA, now!" she demanded. Willow looked unsure, and just a little bit annoyed by Buffy's tone, though she forgave her, considering the circumstances.

"That might be a bit hard Buffy…teleporting that far twice in a row isn't easy!"

"You can't do it?" questioned Buffy harshly. Willow blew out a short breath in contemplation.

"It's not that I'm unable…but that would take me pretty close to that boundary I don't really wanna cross…" Buffy gave Willow a withering glare, under which the redhead crumbled. "But it's Dawn. Dark side or no, this needs to be done. I'll do it. Just give me a minute to concentrate."

"Can't you just take the two of us? If you leave Angel and Spike here it should be easier, right?" Buffy suggested. Willow shook her head, putting down any hope Buffy had.

"Sorry, but that's not how it works. Unless it's dozen of people we're talking about, the number isn't significant. It's just the distance…if I can transport me here, I can get us all there, including Illyria, if she's nearby."

"She's probably swimming here as we speak," supplied Spike quietly.

"That'll do," confirmed Willow. She took several deep breaths, preparing to push herself to the limits of safety. "Ready? Three…two…one…" Magic engulfed them. To Buffy, it felt like she was being yanked by a rope tied around her waist. It was uncomfortable, but not quite painful. The feeling passed, and when she opened her eyes she was back in the Hyperion lobby, Willow, Angel, Spike, and a very wet Illyria standing around her. Illyria looked around questioningly, water streaming from her hair.

"The hotel…we have teleported," the blue god stated, quite impressed. She looked appraisingly at Willow. She had heard the witch was powerful, but she didn't realise she was that powerful. Willow saw the look Illyria was giving her and shifted uncomfortably, unsure what to make of it. Buffy took a moment to get used to the change in surroundings, the different smells, the subtle change in air pressure, before going back into strategy mode.

"We're going to Wolfram and Hart," Buffy informed the group, looking pointedly at Angel. "Search and rescue."

"But wasn't the place destroyed when the Circle fell?" queried Spike. "Maybe we should be checking out a different branch?" Angel shook his head.

"No. When The Beast destroyed the branch it was back within a few months. I've no doubt the building is standing there in all its fully functioning glory."

"Agreed," said Buffy, nodding. "Illyria, you'll be the muscle. You job is to kill anything nasty they have. Angel, Spike, you watch my back. I'll rescue Dawn. Willow, you need to break any barriers or enchantments they have," she ordered, everyone except Illyria nodding. Illyria looked at Buffy with amusement.

"I'll help you because it pleases me, not because you have ordered me too," she said pointedly, cocking her head in a nearly threatening manner. "Understood?" Buffy just nodded, not really wanting a confrontation with the demon right now.

"We bustin' in the front door then?" wondered Spike aloud. Buffy tilted her head as if to say 'how else we getting in'. "'Course we are. Should we bring any of the baby slayers?" he asked. Buffy thought about it for a moment before replying in the negative.

"It's too dangerous for them. I think we'll do better in a small group." Buffy walked over to the weapons closet in a determined manner and grabbed a broadsword, not wanting to bring The Scythe into a place where it might fall into enemy hands. Illyria grabbed her favourite battle-axe, the one she remembered killing Angel with in an alternate timeline, swinging it over her shoulder with a smirk. Angel and Spike took swords too. Willow went weaponless, her power being her magic. They made their way to Angel's old car, the viper probably being impounded as they spoke, hopping over the doors into the seats, once more the guys in the front and the girls in the back.

Angel took off at a more reasonable speed than with the viper, heading for the Wolfram and Hart building, which wasn't too far from the hotel. As they rode, a type of finality overtook Buffy. She slowly realised that they'd always be doing this, regardless of the state of the world. Buffy huffed to herself. So much for normal. But it honestly didn't bother her as much as it had a year ago. She looked at the two men in the front seats, her heart throbbing when she thought of them. She didn't mind if she were never normal, just so long as she always had them.

Angel pulled up in front of the law firm. Sure enough, the twice-destroyed building was once more standing tall and proud, the company logo displayed outside on a large plaque. The five clamoured out of the car, heading for the front doors, with a deadly swagger in the case of Spike and Illyria, and a lethal stalk in the case of Buffy and Angel.

Pushing the front doors open, the five walked in. Security guards were instantly upon them, brandishing stakes. They couldn't have known he was a vampire that quickly, so Angel figured they'd all been briefed on him. The speed of their response confirmed for Angel that they had Dawn and were expecting a rescue attempt. Without even slowing down, Willow sent all ten of them magically flying with a look, the majority of them knocked out when they hit the ground or walls.

They made their way to the elevators, getting in and calmly pressing the button for the top floor. Angel just knew it was on the top floor that Dawn was being held. They waited impatiently as the lift rose, the elevator music terminally annoying. After what seemed like an eternity, the doors opened.

The offices hadn't changed a bit. They'd obviously reconstructed it exactly as had it had been when Angel was chief executive officer. As soon as the stepped onto the floor, they were accosted by two powerful looking demons, seven feet tall and twice as broad as Spike. They had huge muscles over which their grey skin was stretched almost painfully. Their fists must have been the size of Buffy's head. Angel and Spike took the one on the left, Illyria the one on the right. Buffy and Willow avoided them, heading towards Angel's old office, where they could see a large number of people had gathered around an assortment of candles. Though Angel and Spike were having trouble with their demon, Illyria's was suffering blow after blow. She soon snapped its thick neck, going over to Angel and Spike to assist them with theirs.

Buffy burst into the room, breaking the wooden double doors with the force of her kick. In the centre of the large office was Dawn. She was standing in the middle of the room, magically bound to an invisible pillar. The necklace she wore which told her of danger was glowing solidly. She was surrounded by candles, which were arranged in the form of a pentacle. Around her, about a dozen shamans robed head to toe in red cloth were chanting and waving their arms. Dawn was bleeding from the wrists into two golden chalices by her feet. Upon Buffy's entrance, several lawyers who were watching the event became nervous.

"Let my sister go!" Buffy demanded. The chanting continued unabated despite her entrance.

"Buffy!" exclaimed Dawn, a smile on her face, knowing her sister would come and save her.

"I'm afraid the ritual is already underway. You're too late to stop it. The only way would be to kill the key," came a powerful voice from behind Buffy. She spun around to see a handsome, very tall, well-built, well-dressed man. "You know the drill. So Buffy, are you willing to die again? Oh, very heroic of you last time. And coming back to life! Impressive. Of course, your resurrection gave The First the opening it needed. Not that you could have seen it coming, mind be. Of course, _we_ stopped that apocalypse by sending a certain amulet to Sunnydale, didn't we?" he said smoothly. Buffy glared at him, turning around fully to meet his gait, broadsword held high.

"What's going to happen!" she demanded, ignoring his previous statements. She had to crane her neck upwards to look him in his calculating eyes. He clasped his hands together in front of him.

"Well…considering you're all about to die, I don't see any harm in telling you. Soon a doorway will open to the home office. Oh, don't try to go in. It's a gateway to a higher plane. Things can come down easily enough, but going up is a lot harder. That is as far as Dawn is needed. After that, the senior partners will imbue I, Marcus Hamilton, with the power of conduit. Soon after that, your sister will die anyway, the portal only closing when her blood stops flowing. I will be their most important link to this world. Of course, there will be others, but I will be chief among them." Hamilton…That name sounded familiar to Buffy. Very familiar…

"Hamilton?" Buffy repeated, suddenly remembering where she'd heard the name before. "But-"

"-You're dead," came Angel's voice from behind the lawyer. Hamilton turned around and smiled evilly at Angel.

"Yes, I am, thanks to you. But Angel, you should have learned by now that when you sign a contract with Wolfram and Hart, you die only at their discretion. Of course, it costs far too much to keep someone 'alive' once they're dead. After this ritual, I'll go back to being dead. The only difference is, I'll be their conduit, immortal in death. Never again will the partners be severed from this plane." Angel glowered at him, holding up his sword, pointing it at Hamilton's neck. He cocked his head at an angle suited to relieving the pressure on his neck.

"That'll never happen!" Hamilton just smiled sympathetically at Angel, mocking him silently.

"You!" said Illyria as she approached. Briefly wondering how he could still be here, she stopped thinking about it, reminding herself that she had come back from the dead, so why not him? "I will get my revenge on you, Hamilton! You will pay for what you did to me." He smiled politely, beckoning her to attack him with a wag of his finger. Illyria glared at him for some time, sizing him up, suddenly attacking with her axe. She swung it in a hooked, horizontal motion, trying to take off his head, but he bent backwards enough to be missed. She spun around so as not to loose her momentum and swung in a diagonal motion, missing again. She spun around a third time, bringing the axe directly downwards, aiming to cut him in half. He grabbed the axe before it reached him, plucked it from her grasp and discarded it. He punched her in the face so hard she was launched backwards off her feet. She sailed through the air, smashing into the elevator shaft, knocking down the wall as she flew right through it and out the other side, finally coming to rest on the other side of the building. Buffy's eyes widened in awe at how easily he defeated Illyria. Even Spike was getting edgy. Hearing about Hamilton's strength and actually seeing him break Illyria nearly in half were totally different things.

A short distance from Dawn, a portal opened very suddenly, accompanied with howling wind and deep rumbling thunder. The portal led only to a red and brown swirl. Magical energy crackled around it. All attention snapped to the portal, Hamilton monetarily forgotten. Willow could feel a presence on the other side of the portal. It was evil. Evil and ancient, so dark, powerful and so eternal she felt like her soul was withering inside her just by being near it. "Holy...goddess!" exclaimed Willow as she sensed the senior partners. "I-I've never felt anything like it! So this is the power of Wolfram and Hart?" she wondered in awe. She craned her neck around to look at Buffy, who was trying not to be knocked over by the force of the gale. "Buffy, this is way out of my league! I can't beat them! Even if I passed my safety threshold! And if I do, I'll loose control again! I'm not ready to go that far!" Buffy turned Willow around and grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her gently, looking her best friend in the eyes.

"Willow, you have to try, even if you might loose control. We're talking about depriving them of the ability to influence events in this realm! If they succeed, their hold can never be broken again. We're also talking about Dawn's life! She'll die if the ritual is completed!"

"And yet the only way to stop the ritual is to kill her," pointed out Hamilton matter-of-factly, a smirk on his lips. "Quite the dilemma you have there Buffy." Buffy got a fearful look in her eyes. She didn't want to think about it.

"Willow, do your best while I kill this guy! We'll think of something!" With that, she swung around, double backhanding Hamilton in the face, following up with a kick to his chest, pushing him out of the room, back onto the main floor of the office. Spike and Angel quickly joined in, broadswords flying. Willow turned around to concentrate on the magic. She took a deep breath and began, summoning all her strength. She went past the limits she normally kept within. She could feel an incredible well of power, one she hadn't touched since she had used the Scythe to make all the slayers, and before that since she had tried to destroy the world. She opened her eyes, hair brilliant white, billowing in the roaring wind of the portal. She blasted the portal in an attempt to close it, and came into contact with a counter spell emerging from the other side, one she knew had been cast by the senior partners themselves. She started breathing deeply and quickly as she became strained.

Meanwhile, Hamilton was giving the three a run for their money. He was fast, despite his formidable size. Only direct hits to the face even seemed to faze him. He kept his neck carefully guarded, so as not to give either vampire a chance to drink his remarkably powerful blood. He had managed to take all their weapons from them, leaving them scattered around the room. Buffy tried to roundhouse kick him at the same time Spike tried to sweep his legs out from underneath him, but he managed to dodge every shot. Even when they did get a hit in, he took it like it was a child punching him. Angel shouted something to Spike, who nodded. When they had an opportunity, they each grabbed one of his arms, managing to hold them in place. While he was open, Buffy attacked with a punishing flurry of blows to his chest and face, managing to wind him and draw blood from his lips. Shaking his head suddenly in an attempt to clear his mind, he recovered quickly, throwing Angel and Spike away, kicking Buffy when she was within range, sending her to the ground.

Willow was pouring everything she could into spell she had cast. It was essentially a case of battling until one spell won out over the other. She was pushing herself to her limits. Any further and she was sure to loose control. The flowing white energy of her spell was slowing turning grey. It was a combination of the darkness within her being called upon, and the power of the partners' blackest of magicks polluting hers from within her that was quickly causing her to slip. Her white hair went grey, then darker, slowing turning black. Her pupils turned onyx and grew in size. Soon, her white magic stream had become green and black, electrical energy winding all around it. It had killed the shamans who had been sitting in the path of her spell, their charred bodies slumped on the floor. "Buffy!" she cried desperately. "Buffy! I can't go on much longer!"

Buffy could hear Willow crying for help. She knew she had to go to her friend. Leaving Hamilton to Spike and Angel, she ran into the room. "What do we do?" asked Buffy as she looked upon Willow's strained and vein covered face. No reply. At least, not from Willow.

"We must close the doorway!" came Illyria's voice as she entered the room, limping slightly and holding her side painfully. "She cannot continue!"

"No! Only killing Dawn can do that!" yelled Buffy over the howling winds.

"Buffy!" Willow screamed, now frantic. Her skin was smoking, the hairs on her arms burning. The air around her was becoming super heated and the floor was crumbling beneath her power. Buffy was at a loss. She couldn't see any option.

"I…don't know what to do!" Buffy wailed in despair. Illyria glared at Buffy with contempt.

"Then you are a weak leader! A true leader is empty, but for the force of his gale. I do know what to do, and so do you. The difference is you are too weak to do it!" Fearful understanding overtook Buffy as she realised what Illyria meant. Before Buffy had a chance to do anything, Illyria had leapt behind Dawn. Dawn looked down at her neck fearfully. The necklace she wore was glowing so brilliantly it lit up the entire room. Buffy saw the next scene in slow motion, her heart crumbling with every nanosecond. Illyria grabbed Dawn's head, and in one swift movement snapped her neck, a crunch audible even above the winds.

"NOOO!" roared Buffy as she saw Dawn's limp form slide slowly to the ground, the binding spell broken, landing unceremoniously in a heap at Illyria's feet. Instantly, a green swirl emerged from Dawn's form, the energy of the key. Rising from the floor like mist, it wrapped itself around Illyria, caressing her every curve. When it had enveloped her form, a blinding flash of light saw Illyria being lifted off the ground by some mysterious force. A blue stream of magic joined the green, mixing and swirling, and then both of them hit Illyria with such power that she was thrown backwards into the next office, smashing through the wall. At the same time, the gateway to the senior partners' dimension was closed. Willow was out of mind, on the brink of unconsciousness. She suddenly found herself pouring her magic out at full power, yet having nothing to battle against. Without direction, Willow's magic lost containment. Smashing into every corner of the office, it destroyed all in its path. The shamans were blown away, crashing into the windows, which then exploded outwards from the force of the magic. The furniture shattered instantly upon contact. The noise of it was extreme. When the spell hit Buffy, she was thrown to the ground with incredible force, he skin searing from the heat. Willow passed out and fell to the floor beside Buffy, drained almost to death.

Angel and Spike looked over at Angel's old office when all the windows exploded outwards in the magical explosion. Hamilton used this opportunity to grab them both and throw them a great distance. They landed with heavy thuds, each dazed from the series of blows they had suffered. Hamilton grabbed a wooden splinter from the ground and walked over to were they both lay. He kneeled down next to Angel and grabbing him by the shirt collar, he drove the stake home with all his might, determined that he wouldn't miss this time.

It never hit. Angel opened his eyes to see Illyria standing behind Hamilton, holding his arm. He glared at her and got up, focusing on her. "I see you need to be put down a third time. I'll make sure you don't get up again." He threw a punch at her, but she caught his fist in her hand. At his stunned look, she cocked her head and smirked. She began to apply pressure to his larger fist, laughing evilly when he shouted in pain as his bones were crushed. Blood seeped from his knuckles, trickling over Illyria's and falling to the floor. Scowling, he backhanded her with his free arm, knocking her away. She was up again in a second, unharmed. He frowned and grabbed two broadswords from the ground, wielding them with the ease one would wield two twigs. He lunged at Illyria, swinging wildly. She effortlessly dodged his every move by bending backwards, forwards, sideways, and many other unnatural angles. When she saw an opening, she kicked him in the chest with such force as to send him flying to the upper floor, where he crashed into a wall, leaving a large dent. Getting back up and dusting himself off, he leapt off the balcony, swords aimed at Illyria. With one wave of her hand, she slowed time, the ripples extending outward from her now fully healed form. She waited until he was almost to the ground, and then let time resume its normal flow. He crashed into the floor, loosing the swords, which she then picked up.

He turned around painfully, trying to get up, but she knocked him back down, holding him there with her foot.

"How?" he asked simply, realising she wasn't the same. She looked around in an almost spooked manner. Now that she could count molecules again, there was so much more to see. She'd forgotten what it was like to see the world so completely, and was now almost overcome with sensation.

"The girl, Dawn…when I killed her, the key became a part of me…I gained all the keys memories, the fabricated ones as well as the real ones, dating back to my time. I just…knew where my powers lay. I opened up the dimension where they were being held and took them. With the strength of the key added unto myself, I do not believe I will be exploding any time soon." Hamilton smirked painfully at her.

"I bet Buffy won't be happy. If she's still alive, that is. I don't see her moving over there…" he said slyly, nodding his head in Buffy's direction. Illyria glanced at Buffy. No breathing. No heartbeat. Her face was charred from Willow's magic explosion.

"Perhaps…but you will never know for certain," she said, casting him one last, empty look, before literally hacking him to bits in a lightning fast flurry of cuts with the swords. His blood spattered her face, soaking her hair and dribbling down her cheeks. She found herself immensely satisfied. Angel and Spike got up, grunting painfully as they did so, and ran to Buffy.

"Buffy!" yelled Spike, crashing to his knees when he reached her. He shook her, hoping against hope...but knowing it was futile. Tears welled up in his eyes as he realised she was dead. "GODDAMMIT! Dammit to hell!" he roared, pounding the floor so hard he was sure he broke his hands. Angel slumped against a wall, shell-shocked, staring at Buffy and yet unable to say a word. Illyria came in and glanced at Buffy. She took one look, and knew what could be done.

"It may not be too late to save her," Illyria stated. Spike and Angel shot their gazes to Illyria, desperate and questioning looks in their eyes. "Grab the witch and the girl and touch my arms," she ordered. Spike picked up Dawn's limp form, Angel carrying Willow's. Waving her hand, she stopped time almost completely. Unlike the normal slowdown she usually did, this was truly a near freeze. Illyria picked up Buffy, frozen in time, cradling her in her arms. "If we can get her to one of your hospitals, doctors may be able to revive her." Angel and Spike exchanged amazed glances, desperately clinging to any hope, and followed Illyria out, each of them running briskly.

-8-8-

Arriving at hospital about three seconds later, thanks to Illyria's time freeze, they ran into the emergency ward, slowing down when they realised it was too full to be safely running. Illyria had stopped the time freeze just before they entered the building. "Doctor! Help!" cried Angel, attracting the attention of several doctors, who quickly got Buffy onto a gurney.

"What happened?" the doctor asked, looking over Buffy's charred face, almost black on the right hand side, then returning his gaze to Illyria, who was now in Fred's form, but still dripping with the crimson blood of Hamilton. He wondered briefly if it was hers, but decided that considering she was the one who had carried Buffy in, she was probably all right. Indeed, she might even be a demon, he quietly realised.

"She was electrocuted by an overhead power line. It happened about two minutes ago," Angel supplied easily. "She has no pulse and she's not breathing," he quaked, chilling himself with the very words.

The doctors brought her into the ER, readying a defibrillator. Other doctors took Willow and Dawn, asking similar questions. Spike told them the power line had also hit Willow, only for a shorter time, and that Dawn had been attacked by a demon, not an uncommon event for the average doctor to witness these days. Spike and Angel watched intensely as the doctors ripped off Buffy's shirt and bra. Even though they knew it had to be done, they still felt like she was being disrespected by the intrusion. They would have been consumed with jealousy had they not been worried about her very life. "Clear!" a doctor said, rubbing the paddles together, just before he pressed them to Buffy's chest. Her body arched upwards. They raised the voltage and tried again, still no luck. They tired again, and again. "Maximum setting. Last try," ordered the doctor.

Last try. Both Spike and Angel quivered when they heard those words. They were shaking badly, fear and nerves getting the better of them. The lumps in their throats were too severe to swallow.

They could barely breath.

Their mouths were dry.

The droning beeeeeeeep of the machine that monitored her heart was driving both vampires mad.

"Clear!" Their breath caught in their throats. This was it. In the next few seconds they would know if the woman they loved lived or died. The doctor pressed the paddles to her chest one last time and went for it.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

They breathed the biggest sigh of relief in their unlives as the heart monitor registered life. Buffy started breathing softly. The pair closed their eyes and basked in relief as it washed over them like a tsunami.

Spike looked over at Angel and started laughing, despite everything. Angel joined in, so unimaginably happy that he would have certainly lost his soul if the curse still existed. They laughed in the face of death, each knowing she had almost left them.

The laughter died down quickly though, as it hit home just how close they had come to loosing her. Dawn was dead, though it bothered Angel much less than Spike because he knew Dawn wasn't really Buffy's sister. He simply didn't see her as he once had. A streak of guilt for his lack of mourning hit him hard. They just stared at Buffy as she was carted away to another place to treat her burns. The young doctor who had saved her approached them.

"That was lucky. I thought she was lost the moment she came through those doors. The red head appears to be in a coma, but she's stable for now. The other young lady you brought in was pronounced dead on arrival. I'm sorry…how well do you know these three girls?" he inquired.

"We're family," replied Angel, looking solemnly at the ground. The doctor looked from Angel to Spike.

"Both of you," he asked for clarification. Spike nodded numbly. "Ok. If there is anybody you would like us to call, please let us know. Now, we need the names of-"

That was the point that both Angel and Spike stopped listening. The young man's droning voice faded into the background, neither of them able or willing to pay him any further heed. Illyria sensed this, and stepped in to answer all the doctors' questions, surprising both vampires as well as herself.

She took him aside and filled him in about the details of Buffy, Dawn and Willow, relaying all she knew about their age, names, origin and such. She gave him the telephone number of the Hyperion, and he called the hotel, informing Giles of what had happened. He eventually left to attend to other duties.

"I am going," stated Illyria to Angel and Spike. They looked up at her from their seats in the hospital corridor. "This…place…it is so full of the dying and the mourning…so full of despair and pain and suffering…it makes me ill. To spend but a minute more here will drive me to insanity," she said, half-waiting for a reply. After a few moments, Spike spoke up sombrely.

"Looks like you got your powers back…how? And are you gonna be going Hiroshima on us any time soon?"

"The key…when I killed Dawn, the key fused with me. It bestowed upon me all the knowledge it held, including the location of the dimension where my powers were stored. It has bound them too me so securely they can never be stripped again, and in doing so made the shell strong enough to contain them…"

"……so you have all of Dawn's memories? And the key's?" inquired Angel. Illyria nodded slowly, disturbed by the fact.

"I remember…going to the beach with Buffy when Dawn was five…I remember them like they were my own," she said, growing more disconcerted with every word. As she thought about it more, remembering the memories as they came crashing back, she began to feel for Buffy. "I have new feelings that are not my feelings-not anyone's feelings…just the magic of monks creating the illusion of feelings. They're not real! And yet…they feel real." she said, holding her hands to her heart, looking at the room where Buffy was being worked on my doctors. "I cannot help but see Buffy as…"

"Family?" asked Spike with amazement. Illyria snapped her gaze to Spike, glaring furiously, yet unable to deny it. After her point had been made, she dropped her hostile gait.

"She will try to kill me when she awakens…she will seek revenge for what I did to her sister, even though it had to be done," Illyria realised aloud. It bothered her more than she cared to admit. Neither Angel nor Spike could argue with that, so they said nothing.

"Wait a minute," began Spike. "Are you sayin' you're the key now?" Illyria nodded.

"Not that it means anything. I was already able to open any dimension…although now I know them all as though they were indexed…and I know that there are no remnants of my Kingdom left anywhere…I do not know how I know…I just do. Having the power of the key within me is intrusive. I am not myself! All these memories and…and…feelings! I am ridden with emotions and fears I cannot control!" Illyria said, panic creeping into her tone. She had started to breath harder. She nervously looked around the corridor, the walls and ceiling far too close for comfort. Spike rose from his chair heavily, with the intention of calming her down.

"Come on blue, lets go outside and get some air. You're havin' a claustrophobic fit or somethin' in here." He placed his hand reassuringly on her arm and led her away. She followed, too overcome with inner turmoil to object to being touched.

Once outside in the large and nearly empty parking lot, able to drop the guise of Fred, Illyria felt much better. Being away from the tiny rooms humans boxed themselves into, along with not being so close to the puke of human sorrow allowed Illyria to visibly relax. She and Spike stood in silence for some time before either of them spoke.

"Are you upset with me for what I did?" Illyria asked, referring to killing Dawn. Spike remained silent for a long time before answering.

"No. I'm not. I would have done it myself if need be. If you hadn't done it, the senior partners would be reconnected to the world by now, and we'd probably be dead at the hands of Hamilton. Willow did 'er best, but even she's not strong enough to beat W and H….Buffy won't ever forgive you, I expect, but rest assured that you did the right thing." Illyria didn't reply for a long time, choosing instead to stand quietly in the silence. Her breath formed clouds when she exhaled. Christmas was approaching; a time her memories told her was a happy and joyous occasion.

"And what of the others? What will they think of me now that the mantle of remorseless killer is even more firmly embedded in their minds?" she asked bitterly. Spike shrugged.

"Giles…he'll understand, but he won't be happy about it. Xander will hate you I 'spect. He really loved Dawn. She was like the sister he never had. Willow doesn't have it her to hate you. I think she'll blame you, but she'll forgive you. And Angel? I can't really tell. Which is weird…I normally know him better than he knows himself." Illyria brought her gaze to Spike's.

"It bothers me that they would hate me…but as long as you do not, I will get over it," she admitted quietly, getting a strange look from Spike, who wondered what made him so special. The look he gave her prompted her to explain herself. "You…I…" she stumbled. She took a breath and started over. "In all my time in power, I have had underlings. I've had minions and subjects, priests and followers, soldiers and slaves, but I have never had someone with whom I can speak to without either being annoyed or them cowering in fear or awe. I enjoy our time together. It is only with you that I ever have fun, something I thought I would never again have in this shell. In short…you are my only companion in this world. If you were to hate me…" she trailed off, her voice flat and emotionless for the most part, but her last sentence laced with underlying fear. Spike could see right through her tough exterior though. He knew that close behind the cold sounding words was great anxiety. When he spoke, it was with empathy and understanding.

"I don't hate you, blue. And you're my friend too, no matter what, ok?"

Secret relief washing over her, a tiny smile tugged on Illyria's lips. She nodded her head once.

"No matter what."

* * *

Xander and Giles arrived at the hospital about twenty minutes later. After a brief rendezvous with Angel and Spike, they had gone in to see Buffy and Willow. They cried over Dawn as they talked to Buffy and Willow in their sleep, sharing their sorrow for all they had lost. Hours passed, and neither Buffy nor Willow awoke. When the sun started coming up, Angel and Spike were forced to return to the hotel, leaving only at the last possible second.

They entered the hotel quietly, each physically and emotionally exhausted. It was dark, the first rays of the new day having yet to reach the hotel. Their vampire senses could detect the movement of some of the hotel's various inhabitants as they rose from their slumber.

Angel stepped heavily down the stairs, heading over to the weapons cabinet to replace the swords they had taken. Neither vampire felt like saying anything, but Spike couldn't help but be curious about someone that was downstairs.

"Angel…you know what I feel like doing? Torturing the Wolfram and Hart operative in the cage in the basement." Angel looked at Spike with raised eyebrows.

"You think we can get anything more out of him?" Angel asked. Spike just shrugged.

"Dunno. Still wanna torture him though." The idea made Angel somewhat uncomfortable, but he'd let Spike do it before, with good results.

"Go for it then. I'm going to sleep," he said, not really caring. He was still reeling from what had happened. He trudged up the stairs and went to his room, leaving Spike to do as he wished. Though the idea of torture at seemed ideal at first, Spike quickly lost his appetite for it, instead going to bed himself. The emotional chaos of the day was too much for him to deal with on top of torture. Both vampires fell asleep uneasily.

* * *

Two days had passed when Angel and Spike got word via a phone call from the hospital that Buffy had awoken. Not waiting for a second, they left to see her immediately.

"Angel, I've thinkin'," said Spike as they drove steadily towards the hospital in Angel's convertible. "We almost lost her…" Despite the fact that Spike was stating the obvious, Angel didn't feel like pointing such facts out. "We both almost lost her, before we had even a quarter of a year with her…"

"Yeah," acknowledged Angel quietly.

"And what a quarter it was…heartache, yelling, loads of animosity, and a few kisses at best."

"I know," Angel said quietly, feeling more broody that normal. "We've both been so close, but we've stayed away. So many chances to be close with Buffy, and we refuse them, even after years of desiring them." Spike nodded.

"My thoughts exactly, mate…Buffy is the slayer. She may be the longest-lived on record, but she'll die soon. Even if she doesn't, she'll still die so, so soon. She has what, sixty years left at most? Assuming something doesn't get her first? Angel, we gotta stop fighting over her. At this rate, she'll die without either of us ever having her…almost did…" he said, not caring to go on. Talking about Buffy's being clinically dead for nearly five minutes still chilled him, just as it did Angel.

"I know. When I saw her lying on that bed, not breathing, her heart still, I was sure I'd lost her. In that moment, all my hopes and dreams for the future flew out the window. When she started breathing again, I realised I can't wait for her to choose one of us. She may never, and I can't wait that long. She certainly can't…" Spike nodded, a silent agreement passed between the two. Words weren't needed, and would probably just make things awkward. Oddly enough, the idea of sharing Buffy didn't seem anywhere near as bad has it had a few days ago. They both knew she mightn't survive the next one, and if she were to die, they couldn't bare the thought it happening with both of them having passed up the opportunity to be with her, and on such petty grounds. They rode on in silence for the rest of the journey, not speaking until they came to Buffy's room.

Entering cautiously, they looked for her. It was a medium sized room with six beds, three on each side, white curtains dividing each of them. At the far end of the room was a window, through which they could see the last remnants of the day disappearing beyond the skyline. Walking to the end, they spied her. She was sitting up in bed, dressed in a hospital gown, tubes and wires coming from her from all over. Her face was buried in her hands, her blonde hair surrounding her like a veil. She was sobbing softly. As soon as she became aware of their presence she looked up. Her eyes were red and puffy, her face damp with tears. Angel and Spike shuffled over to her as close as they could get. Without words, she threw her arms around Angel, who was nearer, crushing him in a hug. When she thought she could reach him, she grabbed Spike and pulled him in too. It was the first time they'd both hugged her at the same time, but both realised she needed them to be there for her. Awkwardly working their four arms around Buffy's tiny figure, they squeezed back. They stayed like that for some time before they parted. Sniffing and wiping a tear from her eye, Buffy spoke.

"I'm so glad you're both here," she wheezed, her throat raw from crying from the moment she had regained consciousness.

"We'll stay as long as you want Buffy. We're not going anywhere," said Angel reassuringly. Spike nodded as if to confirm.

"What happened? The last thing I remember…" was Dawn dying, she had been about to say, but couldn't bring herself to say it. She had totally cried herself out and was unable to start again, though her heart wanted nothing more than to cry forever. Angel and Spike took up position at either side of her bed, each holding one of her hands. They glanced at each other, silently decided who should tell her.

"We stopped the senior partners' plan," said Angel quietly. "Hamilton is dead again…Buffy-"

"Illyria," said Buffy darkly. "Where is she?" Spike looked away uncomfortably.

"She's back at the hotel," said Spike. "Buffy, there's something-"

"…I want to see her," Buffy said firmly to Spike, her voice a deadly whisper. He shifted uncomfortably under Buffy's murderous look.

"It's Willow," said Angel quickly, getting it out there in such a way that Buffy couldn't interrupt them. Buffy's face paled at the way he said that, all anger suddenly replaced with a cold fear. "She's in a coma. It's deep...The doctors don't know if she's ever going to wake up." Buffy covered her mouth with her hands, new tears forming even though she didn't think it were possible. "She battled the Senior Partners all by herself. It may have cost her her life. It nearly cost yours. Buffy…you were dead for five minutes. Willow's magic blasted you, and…and you were dead. Illyria saved your life by getting you here far sooner than we ever could have," he said in a near whisper, still raw inside from watching his love lie lifeless on a bed for so long. Buffy tried to reply, but the words never formed. She moved her lips, trying to pour forth her emotions and fears, but unable to.

"Luv…I know Illyria killed Dawn," began Spike, sorely hoping Buffy wouldn't hate him for what he was about to say. "But in doing so she saved us all. A few more seconds and Willow would have been toast, literally. The partners would be reconnected with this realm, and Hamilton would have killed us all." Buffy blindly thought about what they were telling her, her ragged mind trying to process it all.

"Illyria got her powers back?" she surmised darkly. She had guessed, taking the subtle information that Illyria had defeated Hamilton and then got her to hospital in record time, probably due to altering the flow of time. Angel nodded in conformation. After mulling over an idea for a few moments, Buffy threw her legs over Angel's side of bed and got up. No sooner had she done it than she became dizzy. Nearly falling, she quickly sat back on the bed. She held her head, waiting for the world to stop spinning, moaning in pain. Her burns had healed somewhat, thanks to slayer powers, but the right side of her face was still raw, burned to the muscle. "It hurts…" she sobbed quietly. Angel gently embraced her, kissing her softly on the forehead.

"It won't hurt for long Buffy…" he said remorsefully.

"Yeah, especially if you press this button," said Spike in a slightly upbeat manner, holding up a device for Buffy to see. "It releases morphine whenever you push it." Buffy swiped the button from him, pressing it hard. A small hissing sound could be heard, followed by a feeling of something entering her veins. After a few seconds, the hot pain in her face lessened, and the pain in the rest of her body almost vanished. Suddenly feeling heavy, she lay lazily back into her pillow, assisted by Spike.

"That's much better…" she whispered almost joyfully. Spike smiled sadly at her, amused. Angel just held her hand again. "Will you both stay? I don't want to be alone," she requested longingly. They both said yes, offering to stay all night. She smiled at their loyalty. "I'm so lucky," she said, slightly out of it because of the painkillers. "To have two people I love with all my heart love me back." She closed her eyes after she said it, enjoying the feeling of floating in her bed. The pain was gone completely, and the drug made her mind hazy enough to almost forget about Dawn and Willow. Gradually she drifted off to sleep, both her guardian angels minding her intently, not allowing anything else hurt her.

* * *

Thanks to all my reviewers for the comments, and to all the people adding this story to their favourites, it really inspires me to do my best. 


	9. Coming To Terms

Buffy stepped through the doors of the hotel tentatively, the welcoming party consisting of Angel, Spike and a host of young watchers and slayers. It was midday, so when she had been released from hospital, Giles and Xander had gone to get her, the vampires unable to leave the hotel. Those assembled paid brief attention to Buffy's face; the burns had healed as best as they were ever going to. From a distance, a difference was not discernable, but from up close, one could see the slightly bumpy and raised flesh of a burn scar. It covered about half of her right cheek. The doctors had thought she was going to be seriously disfigured, but her slayer healing made the effects minimal. Spike and Angel approached her, coming close. Close, but not close enough for either party. They held back, repressing the desire to crush her in a hug. Honestly, they didn't know why; it just seemed the thing to do.

Buffy, on the other hand, had different ideas. After a second of restraint, she ran to Angel and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her scarred face in his neck. Seeing Spike's irked look, she detached herself from Angel and embraced Spike in much the same way, giving him an extra tight squeeze before releasing him. Looking around at the others, she just managed a small smile that quickly vanished. This was no time for smiles. The effort of managing one was almost enough to make her start crying again. Her sister was dead. The last of her family was gone. Her best friend might never wake up; it wasn't impossible for her sleep until she died, her mind falling further into darkness with every passing day. And it was her fault. Willow had told Buffy she wasn't ready, but Buffy had insisted, and why? She had never believed Willow actually had the power to beat the senior partners in three-on-one combat. She had ordered Willow to do it so that Buffy could try and find another way to save Dawn, despite not actually having a clue how it might be accomplished. Even as she barked the orders, she had known she was only postponing the inevitable…

And yet she couldn't bring herself to regret not killing her own sister. In many ways, she was glad that Illyria had done it. Buffy had come to terms with the idea that one day she might have to do something like that. When fighting Glory, she hadn't been ready, but that night in Wolfram and Hart she would have been ready, given more time. She would have killed Dawn. But she hadn't. She was too late. If Illyria hadn't done it when she did, they'd probably all be dead by now.

Illyria.

Buffy's mind darkened at the thought of the blue demon. Despite being glad Illyria had saved Buffy from having to do the unthinkable, she still raged at the demon. It wasn't the just the fact that Illyria had killed Dawn that boiled her blood; it was the fact she did it without caring. Not only that, but she had profited from it, and wouldn't take back her actions even if she could. To Buffy, that was unforgivable.

"You look wonderful," said Angel appraisingly, glowing at her. Buffy smiled softly, happy that he thought so. She wasn't happy about having a scar on her cheek though. She thought it made her ugly.

"So good I could bite you," joked Spike reassuringly. Buffy looked down, embarrassed by the praise she was receiving. She knew they were just saying it to make her feel better, though she didn't doubt for a second they were being honest. And it wasn't just from the two vampires. Everyone was consoling her, offering their condolences and their reassurances, even slayers she had only met once or twice. After a while, she didn't feel like dealing with the crowds anymore, so excusing herself from all company, Buffy silently made her way to Illyria's room, making a quick stop at her own room to pick something up on the way.

She had things to do.

She approached Illyria's room cautiously, though not bothering to sneak, as she knew Illyria could sense her. Coming to a stop outside Illyria's door, she steeled herself. Gripping the Scythe in her hand, she knocked.

"Come in," Illyria said from behind. Buffy entered slowly. Illyria was standing rigidly in the middle of the room, arms crossed, towering over everything, at least in her own mind. Illyria raised an eyebrow when she saw the shiny metallic weapon in Buffy's grasp.

"Illyria…" said Buffy. Eyeing Buffy, the goddess proceeded.

"Have you come to kill me? I thought you might," she said in a tone bordering sadness. Buffy grasped the Scythe and shook her head.

"No. No I didn't. I came to say… I understand …why you killed my sister. If you hadn't done it when you did, we'd all be dead." Illyria levelled her gaze at the blonde slayer, her large, oxygen blue eyes studying Buffy.

"But you don't forgive me. You still hate me. Understandable. I do not expect your forgiveness." A bitter feeling burned within Illyria's breast.

"That's right. I can't say I do forgive you. You are nothing more than a soulless demon to me. I just came here to remind you of that. And if need be, I will slay you. See this weapon?" she said, holding up the scythe. "This is the weapon of The Slayer. A million years ago it was used to send the last of your kind to the deeper well. Angel says that now you're pretty much invincible. I could shoot you in the face and you'd hardly feel it. Well I'd be willing to bet this weapon can hurt you. Badly. So lets get some things straight, ok? I heard about you becoming the key, getting all of Dawn's memories? If you ever, ever, try and use them against me, I will kill you. Are we clear?" Buffy's words stung Illyria. Cocking her head, Illyria's eyes bore holes in Buffy.

"Soul. It is a word you humans throw around like mud. What is a soul? Why is having a soul the factor which distinguishes the good from the bad?" Illyria asked in a semi-rhetoric manner. Buffy folded her arms, knowing the answer instinctively.

"It's what gives people emotions, compassion and a conscience, things I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"But I do," Illyria said shortly. At Buffy's look, she continued. "Even before I assimilated the key I was able to feel. I felt grief over the death of Wesley. Sometimes, even over the death of Fred." Buffy furrowed her brow.

"Before? You mean something's changed? Memories don't constitute a soul, you know!" Buffy said harshly.

"No…but a soul does." Buffy slowly hung her arms. A great fear rose within her.

"Are you telling me you have Dawn's soul somehow?" she asked, deathly serious. Illyria didn't answer for a second.

"No. Dawn never had a soul…the key told me this. And yet she was human. She was good, not evil. This is why I question what a soul is. Fred's soul was destroyed when I took her body, only her memories remaining, but the essence of your sisters 'soul' have become a part of me, along with her memories. Does this make me human? Does this change your perception of me?" Buffy was so blown over that she nearly dropped the Scythe.

"Never had a soul?" Illyria cocked her head.

"No. The key _was_ her 'soul'. Where most humans have an essence bestowed on them at some point, she was never conceived, so a surrogate was necessary. And now it is mine."

"Do you mean to say that Dawn…is in there somehow?" quaked Buffy, referring the Illyria's body.

"No. Being Dawn was but a nanosecond on the clock for the key. Your sister is as dead and gone as Fred, her 'soul' no long existing in the guise of 'Dawn'." There was a long pause, during which Buffy was unable to speak. He sister wasn't even in the afterlife…she had been utterly destroyed. Illyria resumed. "I-having all the memories of Dawn is almost overwhelming, the feeling being magnified now that I have such compassion for Fred…things that once were but passing thoughts are now tormenting me! I think of her parents and how they will react if they find out their daughter is dead, and it pains me. I think of you….I see you as…" Illyria dropped off, looking at Buffy, eyes wide. Buffy glared at Illyria, swearing she wouldn't let her finish that sentence.

"Shut up. Whatever you're feeling, I don't want to hear about it. You killed my sister and that's all that I'll ever see in you. Again, if you ever attempt to use Dawn's memories against me, I swear I'll make you wish you were back in the Deeper Well. Is that clear?" Illyria steeled her gaze and narrowed her eyes at Buffy.

"Crystal. Now get out of my room before I throw you out the window, _human_," Illyria demanded vehemently. Without hesitation, Buffy turned around a left, slamming the door on her way out. Illyria remained standing for a few seconds, eventually slinking off to her bed, one of only two items of furniture in her room, the other being a small beside locker. Being the most secluded, upper most room in the hotel, it was one of the most dilapidated. Black rot climbed up the walls, and the carpet was badly eaten away by the damp and by moths. The builders had long finished work on the rest of the hotel, but hadn't touched her room, at her insistence. She didn't want the lingering stench of humans in the place she slept.

That conversation had hurt her, a fact she despised. Buffy's words cut to bone. Despairing over the gut wrenching feeling in her heart, she reached into the locker drawer and withdrew a large bottle of whiskey she had stolen from Spike. Unscrewing the cap, the starting drinking from it, her second one that night.

* * *

"Hey look at that!" exclaimed Lea the vampire slayer in her manageable German accent, pointing to an article on page one of the Los Angeles Times. "The government has finally commented on the nuclear explosion!" Various watchers and slayers, including Xander and Giles, crowded around her, leaning in to try and read it. Saving them the trouble, she read it aloud. "'The 15 kilotonne explosion of the coast of San Francisco is being blamed on radicals within the ministry of defence, says the acting president of the United States. Acting with the mandate of two major generals, army personal took the nuclear weapon from a base under their control in Texas, and flew it to Hawaii secretly, where it was loaded onto a freighter and sent to San Francisco. The city is being evacuated of all residents.' Wow. This is amazing," she commented. "Look at this!" she said, pointing to a different article on the same page. "'Army mutiny! The 96th, 97th, 100th, 103rd and 106th army divisions, along with the 101st airborne and 13th armoured divisions have broken away from the federal army and pledged loyalty to the newly proclaimed confederate states of central USA'!" 

"Good Lord," said Giles, taking off his glasses. "It's civil war." Xander stepped backwards in shock, falling heavily into a chair. The country he had grown up in, until now invincible, and split right down the middle and seemingly declared war on itself.

"Oh man…this isn't real…" whispered Xander is disbelief. "This is America! Giles?" he begged, at a loss for words, vainly clinging to the hope that the older watcher might have some nearly magical remedy. The Englishman could do nothing but shake his head in disappointment.

"And it's only as cohesive as it's people. Evidently the people of the central states strongly disagree with the policies of the government." Turning back to Lea, he peered into the paper, reading certain parts aloud. "Seventeen central states have renounced the authority of the central government and pledged allegiance to Major General Creighton Abrams, now Commander-in-Chief of the central army. He has lodged a universal declaration of war against 'any and all states, nations or people who consort with the demon menace in defiance of the lord.' They're threatening to use more nuclear weapons, of which they claim to have over three thousand," recited Giles tiredly. "It is no longer safe here," he said to Xander. Xander looked up, not sure what Giles meant.

"What, in LA? It seems to me southern California is about as far away as you can get from this manic." Giles shook his head, annoyed that Xander couldn't see where he was going with it.

"No Xander. I mean it isn't safe in North America. We must decentralise the council. We'll keep a branch here, but we must move the headquarters to a country that isn't in the midst of a nuclear civil war." Xander just swallowed nervously, trying to convince himself that it would all just blow over, and not from the force of a massive explosion. Yeah…it would all blow over.

* * *

"What do you know?" asked Buffy firmly. She was sitting in a fragile wooden chair in the basement of the Hyperion. Across from her was a large and solid cage, and inside was a man. He wore boots, black trousers, a bullet-proof vest and a Kevlar top. He was one of several Wolfram and Hart operatives who had attacked Dawn, kidnapping her and killing her entire class in the process, including a slayer. Spike stood beside Buffy, holding a nasty looking serrated knife. 

"What about?" he asked coolly.

"Anything," replied Buffy. "Anything about Wolfram and Hart. You can either tell us now, and we'll hand you over to the authorities, or you can tell us while we torture you, after which we'll kill you." He faltered for a moment.

"You're bluffing. You wouldn't do that," he dared nervously. Buffy raised an eyebrow mockingly.

"Oh wouldn't I? I just lost my sister and my best friend as a direct result of your actions. It's taking all of my restraint not to kill you right now... You know," she continued hollowly. "When your world is as dim as mine, when you've lost so much, you really stop caring about other people, especially bad ones. You think I won't kill you? Let me tell you, I could leave you hear to starve to death and not pay it a second thought. So tell me what you know. You have a chance to survive. I suggest you take it." He backed down, deciding he'd rather not risk it. Besides, it wasn't like he had been sworn to secrecy.

"All I know is the talk at the office…" he began. Buffy motioned for him to continue. "Morale is low among the staff, but apparently the CEO's of other branches are excited about something. Before you ask, I don't know what! You should ask them. Also, every branch has been contributing resources to some massive project. It's top secret. All I know is that it seems to be their number one priority, even above reconnecting with the big bosses. That's it; that's all I know." Buffy stared him down.

"Everything?" He nodded. "Spike?" she asked, requesting his opinion.

"I believe him. He doesn't know anything else."

Buffy looked at the man, her gaze empty, devoid of emotion or sympathy. This man was a murderer. He killed dozens of teenagers, and indirectly killed Dawn, maybe Willow. "Kill him," Buffy instructed. Without a moment's hesitation, Spike threw the serrated blade at the man, lodging it deeply in his neck. He gasped, hands flying to his throat, clawing at the knife. He fell to the ground, gargling blood as he lost consciousness. Buffy sighed to herself. She was becoming judge, jury and executioner, a role she had long ago sworn she'd never become in relation to humans, but she had met soulless vampires less evil then this man. She'd been thinking about what Illyria had said. It really got her thinking about what it truly meant to have a soul. Gazing coolly at his corpse for a few moments, she turned and walked up the stairs, leaving Spike to dispose of the body.

Angel was waiting for her at the top of the stairs. When she emerged from the basement, he matched her pace and walked along side her.

"Learn anything?" he asked.

"A little. Seems reconnecting to the senior partners was only a number two priority; they've got something bigger and more important to contend with," she said hastily, briskly walking to the main doors.

"Did he say what?" asked Angel as he followed her. Buffy shook her head. "Where are you going?" he asked, slightly flustered. He had to run slowly to keep up with her. By now they were outside.

"Out. Angel, will you drive me somewhere? Anywhere? I need some air…" Calming down as they came to a stop in front of Angel's convertible, he complied with her question, getting out the keys and hopping into the drivers seat. Buffy followed him in and he switched on the engine. It roared to life, rumbling happily away beneath the hood. He took off, no specific destination in mind. After a few minutes, Buffy spoke.

"Thanks…I needed to get out," she said simply, following with a deep sigh. "I just condemned a man to death, Angel." He looked over at her, not surprised. He'd smelled the blood wafting up from the basement.

"I know. Don't worry about it Buffy. That's the last thing you need your mind on," he consoled. She thought over it again. She truly believed he deserved it, and didn't regret it for a second, and that's what worried her.

"I'm not. I'll tell you what does worry me though…no, it does more than worry me. I can't stop thinking about it. The powers send you a vision. Why didn't they tell you about Dawn? She was captured hours before you got that vision, and then suddenly they send us out of town. It seems to me like they wanted the senior partners to reconnect!" she said angrily, still emotionally raw from the whole experience. Angel had also thought about it, wondering why, and had come to some conclusions he knew Buffy wouldn't like.

"The powers work in the long run. Sometimes things get bad, but-" he began, using the least hurtful explanation he had thought of, but Buffy silenced him.

"I don't want to hear it! These powers are supposedly good, so why do they make me want to die inside?" she asked vehemently with gritted teeth. Angel took some seconds before replying.

"Buffy…as much as I hate to say it, you don't work for them; I do. They don't care about you. To them, all that matters is the mission that I do for them. It isn't fair, I know, but the powers aren't fair." He prayed Buffy wouldn't be to hurt too much by that truth.

"So what are you saying? They let Dawn die because I'm not important to them?" she surmised disgustedly.

"Maybe…or maybe they wanted Dawn to die. Maybe they wanted Illyria to regain her powers. Buffy, when Illyria first came to Wolfram and Hart, the Senior Partners were edgy at best. They don't like having around a being older than them who remembers a time when they were weak…" Buffy grew a bitter look on her face.

"So what, we're just pawns to some higher beings? I don't accept that. All my life, I slayed the big bads, and I did it of my own accord. I wasn't guided by some higher power, and I certainly wasn't ruled by them. You think some predestined script caused Dawn's death? Well I don't. I think it was a series of unconnected events which saw Illyria kill Dawn because it needed to be done," she finished. They rode on in silence for a long time. Eventually they were driving out of the city. Without words or direction, they travelled onwards. The road became narrower and other cars became less frequent. Eventually they found themselves in a hilly region, trees and shrubs everywhere. Angel pulled over, stopping at the side of the road, overlooking a valley. He looked at Buffy and nodded his head towards the valley.

Silently, they got out of the car and walked to the edge of the road. About a foot after the road ended there was a sudden drop, leading down into the valley. Angel sat down, his legs dangling over the cliff. Buffy sat down next to him. They gazed out over the landscape, illuminated only by the stars and the crescent moon, the lights of the city being miles in the other direction. The sound of crickets chirping was all around them. It was one of the most romantic things Buffy had ever seen.

"It's my fault," Buffy stated abruptly. Angel knitted his brow in response. "If it wasn't predestined, then Dawn's death is my fault. I grew lax about keeping an eye on her. In the old days, I'd have someone watching her. I would always know where she was and what she was doing. Since we moved to LA, she's been going out at night without even telling me, and I let her because she was eighteen…" said Buffy, a lump in her throat making it difficult to speak. Angel put his harm around her waist and pulled her closer, trying to comfort her with his touch.

"Buffy, she was kidnapped at school. Even if you knew what class she'd been in, you couldn't have stopped it. It's not your fault at all. Blame those who are to blame, not yourself." Buffy rested her head against his chest, wanting to forget about it all so badly.

"It just seems like everyone close to me dies. I'm a magnet for death." Angel ached inside momentarily, the words hitting home with him. He knew exactly how she felt. "And my closest friends get hurt. I cost Xander his eye, possibly Willow's life…well, at least Xander got his eye fixed..." she added as an upbeat afterthought.

"Yeah…actually, I've been meaning to ask about that…Xander's eye…it's not evil, is it?" Buffy sat up at looked at Angel queerly. "Never mind," he said, shaking his head. Buffy lay back down, this time resting her head on his lap. She closed her eyes, not wanting to think, just enjoying Angel's proximity.

"So, where do we go from here?" Buffy whispered softly without opening her eyes. Angel stroked her hair lovingly, though not exactly having a good answer.

"Well…we have to find out what Wolfram and Hart is planning and stop it. We need to prevent them from reconnecting if we can. We might need to leave the country to avoid the civil war…"

"That's not what I meant," she said, rising from her position in his lap. She leaned into him, so that their faces were almost touching. "Where do _we_ go…" Comprehension dawned on Angel's features as he grasped her meaning. Her lips were so close to his...he mulled over things to say, but discarded them all, knowing action could speak louder than words. He leaned forward and captured her lips in a kiss. They kissed softly for a few minutes, Buffy eventually breaking away, a gentle smile on her face.

"Buffy…" Angel began, but trailed off, not quite sure how to proceed.

"Angel…I was wondering…if…you and Spike had thought about…you know…my suggestion any more?" Angel opened his mouth to speak, but quickly found the words weren't forthcoming. He chuckled in an attempt to hide his loss of words. Buffy's mood changed to one slightly perkier. "Cause you know, you don't have to both be with me at the same time, if that's what you're wondering about. We could…take turns?" she said questioningly, unsure how he'd react to the suggestion. "But maybe it wouldn't bother you that much, I mean you two were in a four way for twenty years…I'm sure you and Spike…" she trailed off suggestively. Angel's eyes widened at the suggestion that he and Spike…

"Hold on a second Buffy-" he began, nervous laughter underlying his tone. "Spike and I have never been intimate…" he said somewhat forcefully. He remembered something from his past, his demeanour changing slightly when he recalled the memory. "Well…except that one time," he whispered to himself with a deeply furrowed brow.

"Huh? That one time? So you…and Spike?" she inferred, excited at the idea. Angel gritted his teeth. The cat was out of the bag now. He figured she'd never stop bugging him until he told her, and he didn't trust Spike to give her a truthful account.

"Well, there were extraordinary circumstances," he said in defence. The look Buffy gave him told him not to stall any longer, so he relented and went on with the whole truth. "It was 1894, in Rome."

"The Immortal?" Buffy asked with raised brows. Angel nodded. Finally, she was going to find out something she'd wondered about for ages.

"Yeah…Spike, Darla, Drusilla and I were in Rome. The girls were…taken with his charm. A lot. And quite frequently…Anyway, they had been pressuring Spike and I to be intimate for years, pressures we both firmly resisted. However, one day we awoke to find ourselves tied up in the Immortals home. We could move around, but only as far as the chains would let us. It seemed Darla and arranged the whole thing. She told us that if we didn't…become intimate for her and Dru, she'd let The Immortal ravage them both in front of us." Buffy's eyes shone in amazement and mirth. She thought it was one of the funniest things she had ever heard. "We weighed up which would be worse, and decided on a course of action. Lets just say I got it over with, got released, and tortured Darla for three weeks before I let her off the hook. I hated the Immortal before then, but that really sealed the deal. Even as Angel I hate him, which just goes to show how bad Angelus disliked him….what?" he asked, looking at Buffy's face, which was scrunched up as she desperately tried not to laugh.

"Nothing," she answered innocently. Angel raised a sceptical eye. "So, how intimate did you two get?" she asked teasingly.

"Intimate enough. Can we change the subject? Oh, and don't tell Spike I told you. He'd try and…well, kill me." Buffy crossed her fingers.

"No telling captain peroxide, I promise. Wanna seal the deal with a kiss?" she asked playfully. Angel grinned and leaned in for said kiss. Buffy slid her arms around his neck and deepened it. After a while he pulled away, much to Buffy's chagrin. She had been getting really into that kiss.

"To answer your previous question, yes, Spike and I have talked about it." As soon as he said it, Buffy's heart jumped a mile. They way in which he said it gave her hope. "Buffy…three times you've died on me. Three times I've seen your body lying lifeless. I don't want to wait another second to be with you, and Spike agrees. Life is too short and too full of surprises to bicker over you. You have us both." Angel suddenly found himself tackled to the ground, Buffy straddling his hips. She grabbed his face and kissed him passionately. She trailed her hands down to his waist and rubbed his chest under the shirt. Wow…that was fast. Much faster than he expected.

"Right here?" he asked disbelievingly. Buffy grinned devilishly and nodded.

"Right here, right now."

* * *

Time passed, as time tends to do. Giles decentralised the council, evacuating the hotel. Many of the slayers relocated to other parts of the world, mainly hotspots where the odd vampire crusade was gathering strength, though by and large the demon threat seemed to be waning. People were still paranoid as hell though. The watchers cleared out as well. By the end of the exodus, only Lea, Xander and Giles remained in the LA base. Xander was now Lea's official watcher, and she regularly went out at night to patrol, though she actually found herself rescuing more people from other people than from demons. With the nuclear explosion and the civil war, people became hysterical and had started hunting demons wholesale, often mistaking unusual people for hell spawn. 

Illyria stopped going out every morning as she once had. In fact, she rarely left her room these days. Giles put it down to her not needing to. Spike had told everyone about her previous plans to regain her powers using resources of the government, but now that she had them back those plans no longer mattered. Illyria didn't mind him telling, of course, now that her goal was accomplished. With the war progressing, Fred's theory's had fallen into obscurity, few people ever mentioning them.

Willow hadn't awoken from her comatose state. Every day, Buffy, Giles and Xander visited her, hoping that today would be the day when she woke up, and every day they had left the hospital disappointed. Her pale face and colourless lips gave her the pallor of death. As she lay motionless in bed for week after week, it wouldn't be unreasonable to mistake her for a corpse.

A funeral had been held for Dawn some days after her death. Held at night for the benefit of Spike and Angel, and to the odd looks from the undertaker, it had been a macabre event. Buffy had broken down as the coffin was lowered into the earth. Xander and Giles hadn't been far behind, and even Spike shed a tear. Angel was sad for everyone, including Dawn, but couldn't bring himself to mourn. Illyria had stood like an icy colossus before the gravestone, not moving, not saying a word.

Buffy hadn't spent as much time with either Angel or Spike as she would have liked to, though she preferred Angel for the time being, feeling more comfortable being depressed around him. Buffy's mental state worried both vampires. Once the initial joy of having them both wore off, she barely spoke, barely ate, barely did anything. When she heard about the details of the war, she had just said 'oh' and took it in stride, numb to the dangers and inevitabilities of the conflict. The capitol was in danger of being overrun by the central forces, though the Rocky Mountains blocked their path to the west, making LA a safe enough place.

It was Christmas day. In a heartfelt effort to cheer people up, Lea had put up Christmas decorations around the hotel lobby. A beautifully decorated tree stood in one of the corners, and holly and lights ringed the room. Everyone appreciated her bravery, being alone among a group of mourning strangers, far away from Germany and her family. Xander was the only person she knew well, though she also felt comfortable around Giles. The four super strong residents of the hotel made her nervous. She elected to visit Willow with Giles and Xander that day, leaving Buffy, Angel and Spike alone in the hotel with Illyria.

Buffy sat lonesomly on the bed in her room, arms wrapped around her knees. She didn't feel like being around Angel or Spike just now. Christmas was a deeply depressing time for her. Once, it had been full of joy, but now she had no mother, no father and no sister to spend it with.

She just wished she could close her eyes and be taken away.

Two knocks came from her door. Sensing it wasn't Angel or Spike, she invited the person in. Illyria entered, one arm behind her back, the other clutched to her chest. Buffy was very surprised to see the blue goddess. They hadn't said one word to each other since Buffy had visited her in her room that day. "Illyria…what are you doing here?" asked Buffy softy, only half caring. She only ever half-cared about things now a days, since Dawn's funeral. It had shaken her badly.

"Today is an important day in your cycle of days; a day of giving, and of love. Is it not?" asked Illyria. Buffy nodded.

"Yeah. Christmas. But I don't have anything to be happy about. I have no family…" She felt slightly guilty for dismissing her two vampire lovers so easily, but shrugged it off for now.

"What if I told you I had a way to lessen your pain? Make you not feel so much for your loss? Would you take it?" inquired Illyria. Buffy narrowed her eyes, unsure what Illyria had in mind.

"What are you saying?" Illyria cocked her head, turning to look at her hand, which she brought out from behind her back. She was carrying a glowing golden cube about the size of a football.

"This is an Orlon window. It allows people to see the past as it _once_ was," Illyria told mysteriously. Buffy widened her eyes when the gravity of what Illyria was suggesting hit her. "If you wish, you can use it to bring back your real memories. The pain of loosing your sister might then be lessened." She handed it to Buffy, who took it timidly, gazing at it in awe. If she concentrated hard enough on it, she got flashes of her life without Dawn; growing up an only child, Spike not trying to kill Dawn all the time, and the peculiar memory of when Dawn first showed up. Pulling away, she handed the Orlon window back to Illyria. For a few seconds, she knew Dawn wasn't her sister, and the pain had been less, but she also feared loosing something precious.

"Thank you, but I don't want it," said Buffy, not sounding too sure. Illyria looked down her nose at Buffy.

"I will leave it here. If you change your mind, break it. Your old life will come rushing back, as will the old lives of anybody nearby." Walking to the door, Illyria turned around just before leaving. "Merry Christmas," she said, subtly mocking the holiday. Buffy gazed at the Orlon window glowing peacefully beside the doorframe. She was sorely tempted to break it. The appeal of the hollow ache in her heart going away was strong. Getting up, she walked over to it and picked it up slowly. Sizing it up, she decided to show it to Angel, making here way there quickly.

Angel was startled when Buffy entered his room carrying an object he thought he'd seen the last of. "Buffy-Where'd you get that?" he asked quickly.

"Illyria gave it to me as a Christmas present. She says it will undo any memory spell…it will make me remember my life as it really was…" Angel nodded.

"It will. Buffy, are you sure you want to do that?" Buffy shook her head, definitely not sure.

"No. But it's tempting. But if I do, I want to ask everybody else's permission. I guess I'll start with you…" Angel coughed nervously. He had never told her that he already remembered life before, mainly because he had never been sure how to bring it up, but it seemed now he would have to come clean.

"Buffy…I broke an Orlon window last year. I…already remember life without Dawn." Last year?

When he said it, Buffy wasn't sure how to feel. Lied to? Betrayed? Or was it a kindness that he hadn't told her? Honestly, she didn't care that much. She had learned by now that dwelling on things like that was pointless. It would just needlessly upset her. "Was it worth it? Do you think it would be worth it?"

He paused for a few moments, weighing up what he was going to say. Just as he opened his mouth, the room started shaking. Buffy looked around worriedly as the shaking got worse. Doors to cupboards started swinging open and the glass in the windows cracked, eventually falling outwards. "Buffy, watch out!" Angel shouted as an overhead beam fell on Buffy. She dropped the window as she was knocked to the ground by the wooden rafter, where it shattered in a great burst of magical energy. Almost as soon as it had started, the earthquake stopped. Buffy pushed the rafter off of her and sat up, eyes wide and mouth agape. Angel rushed to her, helping her up, brushing debris of her. He helped her onto the bed and sat down next to her.

Images flashed through Buffy's mind as her old life came rushing back. Growing up as a single child, playing alone, never having Dawn break her things or steal her clothes. It was overwhelming. Buffy started to get dizzy and had to lie back. Gradually, things sorted themselves out and Buffy's mind became clear once more. It was actually very easy to separate the memories which were real and those which were false. Despite both sets of memories being whole and complete, the original set somehow seemed more real now that they where there. Having a sister was almost like a vivid dream. Realising she had lost the certainty of knowing her sister was real, Buffy broke down and cried.

She cried for what seemed like hours, though in truth it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. Angel just held her lovingly, trying to console her. The sound of approaching footsteps filled both their minds. They grew louder and louder until their owner walked into the room. Spike came in and surveyed the situation. He saw Angel looking sorrowful and Buffy crying. He looked a bit spooked himself. He shook his hand in front of him, grasping what was going on.

"I'm guessing it's not just me who got a blast from the past then…" he surmised. Buffy looked up, wiping her eyes, fear overlapping sorrow.

"Oh god…are Xander or Giles here? I didn't mean to restore their memories! Or yours! I'm so sorry Spike, it was an accident!" Spike held up his hands, trying to get her to slow down.

"Hold up, luv. You did this? How?"

"It was an Orlon window. It brings back-" Angel began, only to be cut off by Spike, who looked like things were coming together.

"I know what an Orlon window is. An accident, eh? I take it you dropped it during the quake then?" he said knowingly, glancing at the remains of the magical artefact. "And Giles and Xander are still at hospital. Their memories are probably just fine…" he trailed off, still coming to grips with the new situation. The three were silent for some time, realising they were the only ones who knew. It was almost eerie.

"Don't tell them," said Buffy quietly. "We'll keep this between us, ok?" Angel and Spike nodded, understanding perfectly why she wanted to keep truth from the others. With every passing second, the certainty that Dawn was Buffy's sister was receding further and further into the murky past, quickly becoming little more than a distant memory. Even now, mere minutes after the sudden shock of the past rushing back, the pain of Dawn's death was less. Buffy felt unimaginably sorry for her sister, actually glad she wasn't here to see _her_ sister almost stop loving her. Buffy was glad Dawn would never know how Buffy couldn't help but she her now: as an impostor; someone who had been forced into her life by unnatural means.

Gathering herself, Buffy stood up. She felt much better now, she had to admit. The raw ache of loss had been swept aside, and now it felt like she had lost something of only mild importance. So much was going on all at once…it was overwhelming. Wishing it were simpler, she suddenly had the urge to try her best to enjoy Christmas. Looking from Angel to Spike, she smiled.

"Guys…Illyria got me a present. Did either of you think to?" she asked mock dangerously. They were both taken aback. Spike recovered first.

"Pfft. As if I'd ever forget to get you a pressie," said Spike with a roll of the eyes, silently kicking himself for forgetting. Perhaps he could find one lying around…

* * *

Christmas day went smoothly, all things considering. Xander, Lea and Giles came back from visiting Willow about an hour later. Despite all they had to be sad about, they made the most of it, exchanging paltry gifts and socialising with each other. Buffy quickly grew to like the younger slayer now that she was actually taking the time to get to know her. She was sharp and straightforward, yet quite reserved, a trait Buffy attributed to her aristocratic upbringing. After Angel cooked them a large Christmas dinner, surprising them all with his culinary talents, they sat down in one of the bedrooms to watch a movie. 

It was a reasonably happy Christmas day. For several hours, they all managed to forget about all the bad things that had happened, focusing only on the now. Lea, Xander and Giles sat on chairs around the television while Angel, Spike and Buffy sat together on a sofa, Buffy in the middle, her arms wrapped around each of them. Occasionally Spike and Angel would shimmy closer to Buffy, or one would put a hand on her leg, earning a glare from the other. They'd agreed to share her, but that didn't mean they liked it. They still had yet to work out exactly how it was to be done, as they certainly weren't going to share her at the same time, especially when it came to intimate situations.

Spike excused himself to use the toilet, making his way upstairs to the nearest one. After finishing, when he was on his way out, he heard a clatter coming from the floor above him, followed by a moan. Wondering what the hell was going on, he decided to make a detour to Illyria's room before returning to Buffy. He found the door ajar, which was unusual for Illyria. She liked to keep the sounds and smells of humans out as much as possible.

Illyria was lying on the bed on her stomach, her face buried in the pillow. Her right arm was dangling over the side of the bed, loosely clutching a half empty whisky bottle. The whiff of alcohol he got from her was something to raise an eyebrow at. "Illyria?" he said, unsure if she was even awake. She dropped the bottle, letting fall to its side, where the contents poured out onto the dusty carpet. She pushed herself up, turning around with some motor difficulty. She rolled her head over to look at Spike, squinting to make sure it was him. "What the bloody hell are you doing?" he asked in disbelief at what he was seeing and smelling.

"I am attempting to 'drown my shorrows'. Isn't it obvious?" she replied drunkenly, trying her best not to stumble of the words but failing. She rose shakily from the bed, needing all her might to avoid falling. The world was spinning quite badly. Thinking she was about to fall, Spike rushed over to her and grasped her. He guided her back down to the bed. When he was sure she wasn't about to stand up again, he sat down next to her.

"I thought I told you it doesn't work?" She shrugged in a manner that was far more reminiscent of Fred than of Illyria.

"It only takesh four bottles of whisky to fall unconscious. That'sh when it works, just like you said. My tolerance has gone up since I regained my powers," she said, smiling bitterly. Spike shook his head some more.

"But why? Why do this to yourself?" She glowered at him, eyelids heavy.

"As if you don't know. I am overcome with emotion! Filthy, disgusting…feelings. They burn within me like a ball of flames... I cannot abide them any longer. I feel like…I want to die," she slurred quietly, lowering her face into her palms. Spike was growing worried for his friend. He'd never imagined in his wildest dreams that she could ever be like this. "When I regained my powersh…I was so satisfied. But now I shee they are a curse. The pain I have caused…is far greater than my own. How do you stand it?" she spoke, her voice slightly muffled by her hands. Spike wasn't sure how to answer that, but he didn't have to, as Illyria kept going.

"I have no purpose…it bothers me more with each passing day. Everything I do is meaningless in the end!" she said, coming out of her self-made cocoon. She grabbed Spike loosely by the scruff of his shirt and shook him. "How do you lower beingsh go on living, knowing everything you do is meaningless?" She stared intently into his pale blue eyes, searching for an answer, though she couldn't see straight. She released him after a moment, coiling her arms close to her body.

"It isn't easy, luv. There's a lot of heartache, and chances are you won't matter, but it isn't where you go that counts, it's how you get there. In the ultimate scheme of things, life is pointless, which is why it's important to focus on the little things that matter to you. What you do in life is what makes it worth living, not where you want to wind up," said Spike in an inspired tone. Illyria had to concentrate hard to grasp what he was saying, the alcohol clouding her mind to such an extent as to render her almost unable to think at all.

"What you are saying…makes sense. I should not try to become what I onceh was. I should…do things which matter…I should pursue my fleeting desires. I should focus on what is attainable…" she trailed off. Spike nodded. She leaned over to Spike so that their faces were very close together. Too close, in fact. So close that pretty much all Spike could see of her were her enormous dark blue eyes, now enlarged due to her proximity. He pulled his head back, only to have Illyria keep up with him.

"Uhh…luv, you've a bit too close for comfort," said Spike awkwardly, trying to escape. His attempt was foiled when she grabbed him painfully by the arms, holding him in place. She pulled him to her and kissed him hard. As soon as she did, he made every effort to free himself, turning his head away from her. "Illyria, let me go. You'll feel better in the morning," he said firmly, looking back at her. She bore into him with her eyes so intensely Spike was sure if she had laser vision there'd be two holes in him.

"You talk too much," she stated simply, disappointed that he would turn her down. She released him and pulled back. He was relieved to have some space between them. "Leave. I'm going to sleep," she ordered dismissively, crawling deeper onto the double the bed, lying behind Spike. He twisted his torso around to face her.

"Don't you wanna talk about it?" Spike asked expectantly. She raised an eyebrow.

"About what?"

"I dunno. Maybe about you makin' advances on me?" he suggested bluntly. She closed her eyes, letting the world spin out of control.

"There isn't anything to talk about. I made an advance, you rejected it." Spike pursed his lips, slightly frustrated by her lack of interaction.

"I know this is goin' back to the clipboard days, but why don't you tell me how that makes you feel?" Spike suggested. Illyria scoffed when he said the word feel.

"It makes me _feel_. I cannot describe it, nor do I wish to." She still wasn't being helpful. Spike had heard that she had made advances towards Wesley, but other than that she seemed totally A-sexual. This sudden behaviour was quite unexpected. He figured it might have something to do with having the life memories of two females, one of whom had a crush on him, though now that he looked back over it, there were some instances that could be interpreted as nearly-but-not-quite romantic between them. "Now go. I wish to be alone." Hesitating for a moment, Spike slapped his knees and got up. Looking at her form, lying haphazardly on the bed, out of her mind with drink, he shook his head in pity and left, closing the door on his way out.

* * *

When Spike re-entered the room with the gang, he saw Angel and Buffy kissing softly, the others unaware as they were still watching the movie. He pursed his lips, irked by it. Well, they'd agreed to this, so he wasn't about to storm off. He sat down next to them pointedly, causing them to break apart, Buffy slightly embarrassed. 

"Nice to see you two are getting along. So luv, where's my kiss?" Spike asked, throwing Angel a glare. Buffy glanced at Angel, not sure what to do. He grudgingly motioned for her to do as she wished. Turning back to Spike, she leaned into a kiss with him. Spike briefly sent a smug look at Angel before becoming engrossed with Buffy. Angel clenched his jaw and pursed his lips. Honestly, it was the way Spike was acting that bothered him the most, not the fact Buffy was kissing him.

"Oh! Kinky!" came Lea's voice from in front of them. She was turned around in her seat and staring directly at them. Buffy and Spike broke apart, Buffy's cheeks flushing red, Spike just smirking. Her exclamation caught the attention of the rest of the scoobies, each of them now looking over their shoulders.

"Please Buff, keep the three-way sex confined to the bedroom!" said Xander light-heartedly.

"We're in a bedroom," taunted Spike with a growing smirk.

"A different bedroom!"

"Hold on a second," said Angel, holding up his hands in defence. "We're not having a threesome."

"Could have fooled me," remarked Giles.

"Ya, what with the kissing…" said Lea. "I think it's very sweet."

"Sweet?" questioned Buffy. "Huh…I always thought of it as more…animal."

"Look at that…the movie just ended!" pointed out Xander. "And look at the time! It's Stephen's day! We should be getting to bed, and leaving you three to your own devices." There were murmurs of agreement, followed by a scramble to get out of the room. Ignoring Buffy's protests, they left quickly, leaving Buffy, Spike and Angel alone in an awkward silence.

"So…what now?" Spike asked, looking at Buffy and Angel.

"No threesomes," said Angel, Spike nodding in agreement. "Buffy, we need to talk about this. There's stuff to work out…"


	10. Degeneration

A/N: I know this took a lot longer than usual, but from now on expect much longer between updates. Mild writers block, the kind where you've bitten off more than you can chew. I'm slowly sorting it out and trying not to leave too many loose ends.

* * *

The morning after Christmas, Spike checked in on Illyria, concerned for her wellbeing, both physically and mentally. Last nights charade had been worrisome. She was lying on her bed, reading a book when he entered the room. She looked up at him, looking away when she remembered what had transpired last night between them. Spike understood her reluctance to look at him directly. 

"Morning blue. How'd you sleep?" he inquired delicately.

"Deeply," she answered simply. More like comatose, Spike thought. How could she not have a hangover?

"How much about last night can you remember?" A short pause.

"All of it. I have perfect memory. Every second I have existed I remember with ultimate clarity." Spike raised his eyebrow, impressed. "I remember getting so drunk I couldn't stand unassisted. I remember attempting to initiate intimate relations with you. I remember you rejecting them." Oh boy. Spike took in a deep breath. He hoped she wasn't bitter about it. The last thing he needed was a re-juiced, hurt, unstable god angry at him. That had never worked out well with previous deities.

"Yeah…" he said. An awkward silence fell on them. She gazed at her book without resuming it, and Spike looked around.

"I have been thinking about what you said…about what I should do with my life. I-" Hesitating for a moment, she gathered her courage and continued. "I wish to try and live like a human." The statement took Spike aback, confounding him. He never thought she'd say anything like that. "I cannot ignore these emotions any longer, and you are right; drink does not help … Humans are able to deal with them; I am not, my lack of experience damning. If I am to deal with them, it is clear to me that only by becoming as human as I can will I have a hope of not being rent asunder by renegade feelings…Before, when it was just the shell's memories, I could ignore them most of the time, but with the flood of the keys' memories and feelings, the pollution of her soul, I cannot shove them aside any longer." Illyria put down her book, which Spike saw was titled 'The importance of the familial bond'. "I have learned all I need to from this," she said, referring to the book. Illyria got up from the bed. "I will be back presently. Right now, I have something to do." She walked out of the room without waiting for a reply, Spike following shortly. He chased her down the corridors, then down the stairs, catching up with her just before she walked out the front doors.

"Illyria, wait! Where are you going?" She turned around impatiently.

"To visit the shell's family." It took a while to sink in. That was quite far away, if he remembered correctly.

"You don't have to leave because of last night," he said. "I don't mind, luv. We're still friends, that doesn't have to change." She scoffed.

"What makes you think this has anything to do with you? I am not leaving for good. I will be back." She turned and left without waiting for him to reply. Though he followed her to the porch, he couldn't follow her into the sunlight. She vanished around the corner, quite literally; Spike couldn't even hear footsteps.

Muttering under his breath, he turned around and came face to face with Buffy. He wondered briefly how she'd managed to sneak up on him, eventually attributing it to her being the slayer. Her brows were knit and she was looking at Spike suspiciously.

"What do you mean, 'because of last night?'" Buffy asked. Spike sucked in a breath, unsure of how to tackle this. He could tell the truth, and risk her fury (and possibly her starting a catfight with Illyria), or he could omit the whole truth and just tell part of the story.

"Last night… Uh… yeah, Illyria was pretty hammered. Seems she's been drowning the sorrows… She said some things that I think embarrassed her this morning…" he said. Buffy wondered what that could have possibly been.

"Like what? And where's she going?" Spike shrugged nonchalantly.

"Dunno. Don't even know when she'll be back……Look, Buffy," said Spike, awkwardly scratching his head, deciding to tell her about Illyria kissing him. He knew lying to her would catch up to him in the long run, and besides, it wasn't like he'd done anything wrong; Illyria was the one who had started it.

"Oh my god," murmured Buffy before Spike had a chance to continue. She was looking behind Spike, where Spike realised another person had snuck up on him. Spike turned around to see a familiar face standing unobtrusively in the doorway.

"Hey," said a softly smiling Oz, nodding his head in greeting. "So, like, I was in the area, so I thought I'd stop by." Grinning, Buffy approached him and hugged him, a gesture he returned with gentle reserve.

"It's so good to see you Oz! How've you been? What are you doing here? Oh, never mind, it doesn't matter! We have so much to catch up on!" she said. Oz nodded in agreement, eyeing Spike speculatively.

"I've been good. I was nearly blown up in the San Francisco bombing, so that kinda sucked. It's one of the reasons I'm down here now; my girlfriend and I are going to Mexico with some other wolves…. So…I have to ask…Why is he here?" Oz said, pointing to Spike. Buffy and Spike exchanged glances, each remembering that Oz's only memories of Spike were of the vampire trying to kill them all.

"A lot has happened… Spike's got a soul now." Oz nodded once.

"Oh. You too, huh?" he said, taking it all in stride. "A lot's happened to me as well… like I play bass now…" Buffy chuckled at his mildness. "So… I was wondering if either of you knew what's going on? With the world?" Buffy puckered her mouth, not sure how to reply to that.

"Got a few hours?" asked Spike with a raised eyebrow.

"Do we ever?" came a fourth voice from outside, the attractive blonde owner entering the lobby and taking up a place next to Oz.

"Dog girl?" said Spike, surprised. The last person he'd expected to see hanging around with Oz was Angel's ex-girlfriend.

"It's Nina to you," she said with her arms crossed, tucking a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear. At Buffy's look, Oz introduced her.

"Buffy, this is Nina, my girlfriend. Nina, Buffy Summers." Nina reached out and shook Buffy's hand.

"So you're the Buffy that I've heard so much about," she remarked, sizing Buffy up. "Angel's told me about you." Ending the handshake, Buffy looking at her, surprised.

"You know Angel? Where from?"

"He used to lock me in a cage at that time of month," she insinuated, deliberately being cryptic, getting a small measure of joy from Buffy's look. So this was the woman whom Angel had visited in Rome without telling her...

"Oh. That's…" Huh? "I'm sorry, how do know Angel again?" Buffy asked.

"We used to go out. But that's not what the cage was for," she said hastily, seeing Buffy's look. "I'm a werewolf. I met Oz at a gathering in San Francisco a few months ago, and we hit it off. We have a lot in common… art, music, students, werewolves…allergic to nuts, so we decided to go out.".

"I didn't know you were allergic to nuts," remarked Buffy, looking at Oz, who had a smile tugging on his lips.

"Neither did I. Lets just say I don't want to repeat the experience; it wasn't pleasant."

"Say, is Angel around?" broke in Nina. Buffy nodded, a slight touch of jealously obvious.

"Yeah, he's upstairs. I'll go get him in a moment…"

"If she's here, could you get Willow too? I'd like to say hey," requested Oz. Seeing Buffy and Spike's looks, he got a sinking feeling in his chest. "She's ok, right?" Spike scratched his head and Buffy's eyes became downcast.

"Oz, about Willow-"

* * *

Nina knocked softly on Angel's door. After a few seconds of waiting, there was no answer. She knocked again, and there was still no answer. She tentatively opened the door, peeking in. Not seeing the dark vampire, she entered, pointedly closing the door behind her. She looked around, taking in the decorum. 

"Man, talk about moving down in the world…" she muttered to herself. Peering over at another door, she could hear the droning patter of water hitting the floor. Steam seeped from under the door. She decided to wait around until Angel was finished with his shower.

After several more minutes, the shower stopped. She heard a door sliding open and some moving around. The wooden door opened and Angel emerged in a towel, his upper body glistening. He was drying his hair with a second towel, so he didn't even realise she was there until he bumped into her. He dropped his head towel and stared at her, amazed.

"Nina…" he said, startled.

"Angel. It's good to see you again. How've you been?" Looking around, embarrassed to be so naked in front of her, he delayed answering. She rolled her eyes. "Relax, it's not like I haven't seen you naked before." Realising he was being silly, he calmed down. They were both adults, and there wasn't any need to fret about it.

"I've been good… Mostly. I got my soul fixed, and now I'm back with Buffy. You?" She raised her eyebrows, impressed.

"I've also been good. I moved to San Francisco, where I met a certain Daniel Osbourne. We're going out now."

"Oz?" questioned a very surprised Angel.

"Yeah, he's downstairs. Buffy's filling him in…so I was kind of hoping _you'd_ fill _me_ in. You send me and my family away, and within a few weeks, the world starts ending."

"Hey! I didn't end the world, I saved it!" Angel said defensively. Strolling to the window, Nina looked out, eyes surveying the city. From several places, pyres of smoke billowed, the result of a riot or a magic attack, everyday occurrences these past few weeks.

"Really? Could have fooled me. Civil war in this country; Magic plagues in India; anarchy in South America, witch-hunts everywhere? Angel, fifty million people are dead!" What? That didn't sound right, thought Angel.

"Fifty? Last I heard it was ten." Nina's face fell.

"You haven't heard?" she asked, a pained look on her face. Angel shook his head, afraid of what he was about to hear. He bid her to continue, though he was sure he was about to feel very badly about something. "New York isn't there anymore. It happened at noon yesterday. The central forces bombed it to dust. Said it was a citadel of Satanism and debauchery. And it's not the only place. Pakistan and India have been nuking each other since Tuesday." Angel counted the days. Today was Friday. "And it seems to have all started the day we broke up. What happened?"

Angel sank down to the bed, burying his face in his hands. Neither he, nor anybody else in the hotel had heard. He was shell-shocked. A sickening feeling rose up inside him as he realised it would have never happened if the senior partners' spell were in place.

"What have I done?" whispered Angel.

"What _have_ you done? No, really, I don't know. What ever it was Angel, I'm sure you couldn't have foreseen what's happening now," she said, trying to get across that she didn't blame him. She sat down on the bed, and he filled her in on everything he had done, attacking the circle, Wesley's death, the spell in the alley shattering, and things soon became clear to Nina.

When Buffy entered the room minutes later, Nina was still taking it all in, feeling like she had been violated by the spell. She thought it was sad that without the magic of evil demi-gods holding them back, mankind would sink to nuclear holy wars.

"Angel, Oz and I are going to visit-" she began, breaking off when she saw Nina and Angel sitting closely on the bed, Angel wearing only a towel. Realising how the situation must look, Angel got up quickly, nearly loosing his towel in the process.

"Buffy…Nina and I were just catching up," he said, a bit too quickly, "about the past. And what we've been doing since we … broke up…" he finished nervously, wishing he'd chosen better words with which to express himself. Nina rose, trying to act nonchalant.

"Yeah. Seems a lot has happened in the last few… anyway, you and Oz are going to visit-?" she said, requesting Buffy to finish. Shaking off a nagging doubt, Buffy answered.

"Yeah… we're going to visit Willow in hospital. Xander and Giles too. You're welcome to come, but it won't be much fun," Buffy said. Nina got the feeling that Buffy would be more comfortable if she went, so she decided to oblige.

"No, it's ok. I'd love to go. I'll finally meet the legendary Willow," Nina said, turning back to Angel when she was done. "I'll see you when I get back Angel." Buffy stepped aside, offering Nina the door. Nina walked through and Buffy followed, not looking at Angel before she left.

Angel listened to the go, following their footsteps downstairs. When he heard them leave, he lay back and thought deeply about the consequences of his actions. Intention not withstanding, he was directly responsible for the events unfolding in the international arena. He sank more deeply into the bed, thinking about the millions of people who were dying. He had unknowingly started a nuclear war…

Or had he? He was doing the work of the powers. They had told him to destroy the circle. Surely this couldn't be what they had intended…could it? He knew they sometimes let things get worse, but this was ridiculous. Could Wolfram and Hart have somehow managed to trick the powers? Had they been planning this all along? It seemed unlikely … If they had, the powers would have told him through a vision, surely. He knew he was going to have to find out, and also discover what their new pet project was. The question was how? He couldn't think of any contacts he had within Wolfram and Hart, and they certainly weren't going to tell him.

Doing his best to shove these problems out of his mind, he dried off and got dressed, slipping into comfortable slacks and a black button-up shirt. He left his room and wandered the halls of the hotel in deep thought. His stomach growled, reminding him he was hungry.

He made his way to his office, where he had some blood in the fridge. He opened the door and leaned in to get a bag. Just as he clutched it, Spike addressed him from behind.

"So… you hear about New York?" His tone was mournful and distant. Angel rose with a bag of pig's blood and nodded sombrely.

"Yeah." After a silence during which Spike had expected Angel to elaborate, he prodded him.

"So what do you make of it?" Pouring the blood into a mug and placing it in the microwave, Angel eventually replied.

"If you're asking me if I think it's our fault, the answer is I don't know." Spike scoffed.

"I never said 'our'. Destroyin' the Circle was your idea. I just tagged along. If I'd known this would happen, I wouldn'ta done it." Angel clenched his jaw, this being so typically Spike.

"It wasn't my idea Spike, it was the powers that be-"

"-Oh yeah, 'cause they're so helpful! Well you took their orders, and now look where it's got us!" Pausing for a second, he continued. "You know, I think these so-called powers that be are a load of bollocks, Angel! Buffy's never taken orders from them, and she's saved the world loads of times just fine. How do you explain that then?"

"I can't! All I know is the powers have never steered me wrong. They did save San Francisco!"

"Yeah, but they forgot to mention New York! Or Delhi, or Bombay, or Islamabad! Angel, the planet is about to enter the third world war, and the powers aren't helping one bit! You've had a single vision of any worth in the last few months, an' meanwhile millions are dying! People are rioting in the streets on a daily basis, and folks aren't even safe in their own homes because demon killing squads are doing random checks!"

"I know!" Angel shouted frustratedly, Spike falling into silence. "You think I haven't thought about this? You think I don't wonder _every second_ if what I did was the right thing? Well I do! And the answer is I don't know! But then I wonder what would happen if I had never done any of it… what if the senior partner's apocalypse hadn't been stopped?" Angel said. He removed the blood from the microwave and took a sip.

"Well did you ever consider that maybe we're _in it_? That maybe this has been their plan all along? Angel, for whatever reasons, mankind rose from being 'the ooze that eats itself' to being the supreme life form of all dimensions. For eons, demons have tried and failed to make their comeback, and man has bested them without even realising. Now that man knows about it all, demon kind is being driven from this world! Every time you hear of a demon crusade rising somewhere, the next day you hear of how a thousand men with machine guns and modern weaponry crushed them! In the last hundred years, man has become so powerful that demon realms quake with fear, because they know that if it came down to a free for all, they'd loose! Has it never once crossed your mind that _only mankind itself_ has the power to do what countless demons have failed to? Don't you see?" Angel nearly dropped his blood as the horrible realisation dawned on him, as Spike's words arranged themselves in his mind into a viable hypothesis.

"We played right into their hands… I didn't stop their apocalypse, I catalysed it. And the reason this one has been building for so long is because it's only been recently that man has had the power to destroy itself… what have I done?" he despaired, collapsing into his chair. Spike said nothing. "But… what about the powers? They _told me to do it_………. No," he said after a pause, shaking his head, "I don't believe this is over. The story isn't finished yet! This is only the apocalypse if we let it be. The senior partners won't win, because we're going to make sure of it."

"Here's hoping," mused Spike with a raised brow, hoping Angel had a plan, because he sure as hell didn't.

* * *

Buffy, Xander, Giles, Nina and Oz were in Willow's hospital room. The sterile smell bombarded Oz and Nina especially. It was so unnatural. Xander and Oz stood beside Willow's bed, staring down at her pale, lifeless form, listening to the machines hooked up to her as they made their droning noises. 

"Hey Will," said Xander in the most up-beat tone he could manage. "Look who we found. He's here to see you." He looked up at Oz, beckoning him to follow up. Oz took Willow's hand in his own and stoked it.

"Hey. It's me, Oz. I came as soon as I heard… Look, I think you should try and get well as soon as you can; this doesn't suit you." He stopped for a minute, finding new things to say. "So, like, we should catch up as soon as you're awake. I hear you tried to destroy the world… I'm kinda glad you didn't, but it's understandable; those college finals can be a real bitch." Xander chuckled softly.

Just outside the curtain, Buffy and Nina were eyeing each other. Buffy didn't like the blonde woman, a fact that Nina could have picked up even without werewolf senses. Nina knew exactly why, though she couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of resentment about it. After all, when she'd been with Angel, she had been living in Buffy's shadow, and for that she got the scorn of said woman. It wasn't fair.

"So much has happened… Do you guys have any idea what you'll do next?" said Nina, desperate to fix the tense silence. Buffy didn't answer.

"Well," began Giles, "We need to figure out what Wolfram and Hart is up to, though I'm not entirely sure how… I'm also seriously considering moving out of the country. If New York is considered a legitimate target for a nuclear assault, then Los Angeles is just as vulnerable. It isn't safe here," he said tiredly. Buffy nodded, depressed about the whole affair. Apart from the sadness she felt for the state of her country, and the shock and near despair over the bombing, she simply didn't want to leave. California was her home. That being said, she didn't want to risk being vaporised. Sighing, she made up her mind.

"Agreed. When we get back to the hotel we'll make arrangements to leave, though by the looks of it, we're not the only ones," said Buffy, referring to the extremely heavy outbound traffic on the way over, the result of millions of people fleeing the city. The same was happening all over the country, the New York tragedy prompting a mass exodus from any major population centre. "Any thought of where we'll go?"

"Europe. It's safer there," said Giles.

"England?" Giles shook his head.

"No, I'm afraid Britain is one of the least stable countries there. The mainland is our best bet. We could go back to Rome?" he suggested, to which Buffy shook her head.

"Angel and Spike wouldn't like it there… Are you sure we can't go to England? I want somewhere that speaks English. What about Ireland? They speak English there, right?"

"They do… but the weather is terrible… besides, our needs would be better suited on the mainland. The Netherlands… it's the new San Francisco, I hear. We'd be bound to find something there that would help us fight against Wolfram and Hart." Levelling her gaze at Giles, Buffy nodded sadly, wishing she could stay in her home, but knowing it was far too dangerous.

"Do they speak English?"

"Better than the English do," confirmed Giles with mildly flummoxed nod.

"Ok. Netherlands it is."

* * *

Later that day, the Hyperion was buzzing with activity. People were busily moving around, packing things, making phone calls and generally winding up business. Buffy figured that she was never going to finish her college course. Too bad, she had really been getting into it. She also figured Willow would be seeing the last of her magic school, a place she had just settled into, and was top of her class, every class. 

Giles had made arrangements to move Willow, claiming to be her next of kin, a claim he was sure she would have endorsed. All they had to do was say the word, and an ambulance would transport her to wherever was needed. Buffy and Xander didn't have more than one suitcase each, all of their important belongings having been destroyed in Sunnydale over a year before; Buffy had loads of clothes she'd bought with Dawn, but she didn't feel like touching them. Giles had a number of books, but other than that he also travelled light. Spike literally had nothing more than the clothes he wore and a single other set, but Angel had a lot he didn't want to leave.

Buffy found him in what had been Cordellia's room, looking through the dozens and dozens of boxes of her stuff, which had sat gathering dust for nearly two years.

"Looking through photo albums?" commented Buffy as she entered. Angel looked up from the leather bound album he was holding and nodded.

"Yeah… I want to bring all of it, but I know we can't… I have to decide what I bring… and what I loose forever." Buffy came up beside him and looked down at a picture. It was a picture of Angel, Cordellia and Doyle, standing together in the old office and smiling. The Angel in the picture seemed younger, like he wasn't bearing the weight of the world on his conscience. Grasping the album for a second longer, he put it into a rucksack on the ground by his feet, which Buffy could see was full of similar memorabilia.

"Angel… I'm sorry you can't bring it all…" His expression darkened as he was again reminded of the situation. Being millionaires thanks to David Nabbit's money, it seemed like they should have been able to move the entire hotel to Europe, but the panic meant that even vast sums of money were worthless. The city was emptying at an astonishing rate. The airports were closed and the central states formed a land barrier, which meant the only way out was to go north to Canada or south to Mexico, unless you were willing to be packed off to Hawaii on a crowded tanker. The government had declared marshal law, and soldiers were streaming into the city, trying to keep order. In short, nobody was willing to transport people with more than a few bags, regardless of how much money they had.

"So am I… but it needs to be done. I'm finished here." He bent over and zipped up his bag.

"So… you and Cordellia, huh? I still think it's weird," said Buffy wryly. Angel smiled slightly.

"I know the Cordy you knew was loud, shallow and cared about nothing except money and fashion, but she grew a lot. I saw her become a brave woman who only wanted to help people… I guess we got close. Does… it upset you?" he asked, sensing that Buffy was slightly uncomfortable with the idea.

"No," she said quickly, shaking her head. At Angel's look, she sighed. "Yes. I don't know why… I just… I don't like to think about you with other people. It makes me… Kinda insecure. I mean, when I walked in on you and Nina… were you that comfortable with Cordellia too?" Angel didn't reply for a second, wondering how she'd react.

"Yeah," he said. Buffy mouthed an 'Oh'.

"I know you and Nina…you know, had sex… but, did you and Cordy ever get… that close?" Angel wondered about the time he had achieved perfect happiness in the arms of Cordellia in his mind, debating about whether or not to tell Buffy. He knew she'd be hurt by it, but then again, it never actually happened… No, he knew that whether or not it actually happened wasn't the biggest issue, a fact he knew Buffy would see immediately.

"No. We barely even kissed, before…" she died… It still pained Angel to think about it. He couldn't even bring himself to say it. Buffy entwined Angel's hand in hers and led him out, knowing he didn't want to talk about it.

"So, have sex with any other blondes?" Angel swallowed, and replied after a second.

"No." Buffy slowed to a stop in the hallway and looked into his eyes searchingly. She narrowed her gaze.

"You're lying… Angel, just tell me. I don't mind, I swear, I just want the truth." Angel wetted his lips, debating whether or not to make something up. He figured he might as well tell her.

"Darla. Wolfram and Hart brought her back from the dead the year after I left Sunnydale." Buffy widened her eyes.

"Your sire? And where is she?"

"Dust," Angel said simply, not wanting to get into it. Buffy furrowed her brow.

"She was still evil? Just how many times did you become Angelus?" Angel shook his head.

"No, I was Angel. It was a dark time for me…" Buffy wasn't sure that made her feel better. She would have preferred it to be Angelus.

"Angel… what were you thinking? And just how many women have you been with?" she prodded accusingly. Angel crossed his arms, not liking her tone.

"Why should that matter?" Buffy looked away, a hard smile on her face.

"It matters to me."

"A few, Buffy." The smile vanished from Buffy's face, replaced with a look of near-hurt.

"What, you couldn't put me behind you fast enough?" Angel rolled his eyes angrily.

"It isn't always about you, you know. And I know you didn't remain chaste, so somehow, I don't think you have the right to be annoyed."

"Three people, one of whom was a regular boyfriend, and the other one was Spike." Angel chuckled sarcastically.

"Oh, so it's ok for _you_ to have regular sex with an evil vampire, but if I do it once it's something to wag your finger at? My god, stop using double standards Buffy!"

"I'm not! I'm sorry it bothers me Angel, but I can't help it! I love you, and I don't like the idea of you being with anybody else, even if we weren't together, especially now that we are!" Angel frowned deeper.

"And you think I do? Step in my shoes, Buffy! Every other night, you spend with Spike, thanks to this rota we have going. You may not like the idea of me having been with another, but I have to live with you _being_ with another every day! You're being a selfish hypocrite!" The words were like a slap to the face for Buffy. She knew he was right, and she suddenly felt very stupid and immature for fussing over what now seemed like petty details, but she was still hurt.

"You agreed to this, though! And so did Spike!" she argued, trying to regain her fire. Angel nodded.

"Yeah, I did, but that doesn't mean I like it. Trust me, if there was another way, I'd take it."

"Another _way_? Way? You say that like I'm some… goal, some jigzaw puzzle to be solved!"

"Well, you are quite the enigma," said Angel, brushing off her comment. She dropped her jaw at his sarcasm.

"My god… you know what Angel, fuck you!" For a moment he looked taken aback, but he recovered quickly.

"Fuck me? Fuck you! You're the one being an asshole!" Buffy shook her head disgustedly.

"Go screw yourself. Talk to me when you want to stop being a hurtful bastard," she said, spinning around and stalking off.

"No, you talk to me when you stop being a needlessly jealous child!" he yelled after her. He couldn't believe her. Was he just being really old? Or was she indeed being unfair… He stood thinking for some time, unable to decide which of them was in the wrong. He was just about to start walking again when a cry for help from the lobby grabbed his attention. He sprang into action, wondering what it could possibly be. Racing down the corridors, he came upon a sight he'd seen before. Heavily armed soldiers dressed in green camouflage were pointing M-16's at the occupants of the lobby. Some were looking around the office, rapidly searching things; others were clearing out the basement. All the other occupants of the hotel had their arms raised.

"Angel!" cried Buffy as he came, prompting several soldiers to snap their guns to him. He stopped running and raised his hands quickly.

"What the hell is-" Angel began.

"Shut up! We're asking the questions here! Now all of you, line up against the wall over there! MOVE!" The scoobies were jerked into action, quickly lining up against the wall below the balcony. When the lead soldier was sure they weren't going to try anything, he motioned for someone to enter. A scientist in a white coat entered, holding a strange looking device.

"This is a check. We've been monitoring this place for some time. Some of you are keeping odd hours. This raises suspicion that not all of you are human. Dr. Smith will scan each of you to determine what you are."

"And then what?" asked Giles defiantly. The head soldier eyed him before answering.

"Any non-humans will be taken to an internment camp for the time being, for their own safety, and the safety of those around them." Some scoobies exchanged nervous glances.

"Internment camps? You mean like you did with Japanese-Americans during The War?" The head soldier smirked.

"Sumthin' like that." The doctor started at one end of the line, with Giles, and waved what looked like a metal detector over Giles, looking at the readings on a small hand held screen.

"Human." As soon as he made the pronouncement, another soldier grabbed Giles roughly and pulled him aside. Dr. Smith moved onto Buffy, pronouncing her clear, doing the same with Xander and Lea, but knitted his brows when he came to Oz and Nina.

"Strange… they're human…but there's definitely something demonic about them… better take them to be safe." Four soldiers descended on the werewolves and grabbed their struggling forms.

"You can't do this!" shouted Giles in protest, only to be hit in the back of the head with the butt of a rifle. He sank to the floor, loosing consciousness. Buffy looked like she was about to do something, but the sound of a gun being cocked behind her made her stop. She clenched her jaw and remained passive. The Doctor moved on to Spike and Angel, who just looked on with gritted teeth.

"These two are vampires. Quite powerful ones, judging by the readings I'm getting, especially the dark haired one. I'd say they're about five hundred and three hundred respectively." Angel and Spike smirked at his error, each pleased they were so powerful as to be mistaken for much older masters. "Regardless, vampires are evil and are to be staked on site." The smirks vanished into cautionary stares.

"Do you really think we're going to let that happen?" asked Angel threateningly. The head soldier looked over at Buffy, who had a gun pointed at her.

"Are you going to let her die? If you resist, we'll shoot her."

"Hey! You're meant to be the good guys!" protested Xander. "What happened to protect and serve? You're talking about murdering a citizen!" The soldier shrugged.

"Yeah, well this is war, and some allowances have to be made. So, vampires, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Are you gonna let the girl die?" he said, getting right into Angel's face. Angel flashed the soldier a smirk, and in one lightning fast movement, spun the soldier around and got him in a strangle hold, his hand crushing the man's windpipe. Angel vamped out and snarled, unnerving the soldiers with his guttural growls. The soldiers' hands clawed at Angel's mighty arms, but he was far outmatched.

"Gee, looks like the tables have turned, Joe! I'm evil, remember? You think I care if you kill some of my food? The question you guys should be asking is how many of you can I kill before you get me?" he shouted, his amber eyes daring the other soldiers to try something. Nobody moved, though all the guns were pointed at Angel. There was a silence for a while, during which time each side contemplated the next move.

"You're bluffing," said the doctor. "We've been watching you. We know you have intimate relations with the girl. You too," he said to Spike, who scoffed.

"Yeah, doesn't mean we love her, mate. We've had thousands of partners, most of whom we killed afterward. So go on, take your best shot. You'll be dead before you get a chance to reload." Some of the soldiers looked nervous, obviously believing him, but the one they were talking to now, second in command, seemed confident.

"Take'em out!" A hail of bullets erupted, killing the soldier Angel was holding. Even before the body slumped to the ground, Angel was doing a back flip up to the balcony, trails of bullets following him. He landed on the rail and was hit several times in the chest. He quickly ducked behind one of the pillars, which was quickly chipped away at by more sustained fire.

Though Angel had been ready for the attack, Spike had not, and as soon as the guns required reloading, two soldiers were on Spike. One grabbed him, the other one brandishing a stake. Spike had been paying attention to Buffy, and wasn't able to stop the stake from plunging into his chest. Buffy saw the sharp bit of wood enter his chest, and she nearly exploded inside.

"SPIIIKE!"

* * *

In the hospital, Willow's eyes shot open and she gasped. She was jerked awake by an incredible feeling of despair and pain in her heart. It made her want to break down and die. She sat up shakily and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her eyes were deep black and magic circled around her, infusing itself with her being. The last time she had felt this raw inside was when Tara had died. She instinctively knew there was trouble. 

"Buffy…"

* * *

Spike snarled and ripped the stake out of his chest, head-butting the guy who had done it to him, causing him to crumple to the floor. He threw the one who was holding him across the room, where he slammed into the marble floor with a sickening crack. Wiping the blood from his mouth that was welling up from his lungs, he smirked. 

"Missed the heart. It's half an inch to your left." The other soldiers had finished reloading by now, and pointed their guns again, this time at the human occupants. Things were about to get messy. They opened fire.

The bullets flew at the mortals, but stopped just millimetres from their bodies, suspended in midair. All their guns jammed suddenly. They stared down at them dumbly, seeing a strange mist encircle them. It entwined itself around their guns, eventually gripping them. The guns glowed red and melted in their hands, dripping to the floor. The soldiers roared in pain and tried to throw them to the ground, some succeeding, but some failing because the molten steel was covering them. One soldier who hadn't been holding a rifle withdrew a handgun and cocked it, aiming frantically around, trying to find something to shoot at.

"You shouldn't be killing innocent people," came a venomous voice from the door. He spun around and pointed the gun at Willow. She was leaning heavily on the doorway to support herself, panting deeply. Magic swirled around her like ribbons. It was visibly melting away from her, coming off in waves. He fired at her, but the bullet never left the gun. Instead, the pistol exploded, blowing his hand off in the process. He cried out in shock and pain, grabbing his arm with his other hand.

"Willow!" exclaimed Xander, not sure whether to be relieved or frightened. Her hair was still red, albeit a darker shade, and she wasn't veiny, but her manner disturbed him.

"Doc, what do we do!" shouted a soldier, looking at the scientist.

"She's a magic user. We need back up!" The soldier nodded and grabbed a walkie-talkie.

"This is gamma six! We're in the Hyperion Hotel and we have a class C situation! We need heavy back up!" There was some white noise, then a voice.

"Roger. We'll be there in a few seconds!" As soon as he was finished, the radio shattered into pieces, Willow having destroyed it with a look. One of the troops lunged at Willow, but was blown back by the force of her gaze.

"You fired on unarmed civilians!" said Willow with disgust. "Without a second thought! That's unforgivable." The doctor looked behind Willow, seeing a tank coming up behind her. It's turret swung around and took aim.

"And what are you going to do about it?"

The tank fired, and less than a second later there was a tremendous explosion, the shell hitting the hotel about halfway up, blowing a large part of it to smithereens.. A moment later, the ceiling caved in above Willow, burying her underneath tonnes of rubble, which piled up for metres. A hole leading right up to the roof was visible, the entire front of the hotel having collapsed.

"Alright men, let's get out of here!" shouted one. They all moved to escape, most of them painfully clutching their horrendously burnt hands and wrists. Before they could move, the rubble blew apart, rocks and broken plaster flying in all directions, but not a single mote of dust hitting any of the scoobies. The tank fired a second time, but Willow spun around and waved her hand at the incoming shell. It crumpled into nothingness, vanishing from the world. She gathered magic in her hand, summoning it into a ball, and threw it at the tank. As soon as the magic hit it, the tank exploded with great power, it's forty tonne carcass being launched several feet into the air. She looked around and could see another tank coming around the corner. In the distance, helicopters and jets could be heard. She knew that they'd be here soon, and while she was able to stop them all, she couldn't without killing many people.

"Guys, come on, we're leaving!" Willow said. The gang needed no further encouragement, all of them following Willow out of the destroyed exit. Once they were outside, Willow concentrated and warped them all to outside the city. They found themselves on a hill overlooking the vast urban expanse. It was a very cloudy day, so Angel and Spike were in no danger of getting sunburnt. Dozens of military aircraft were doing rounds over the city, a number of them concentrated over the Hyperion, though only Xander could make it out, thanks to his eye. Large sections of the city were burning out of control, huge clouds of smoking rising to mix with the real ones. After the shock wore off, the gang broke into talk, most of it focused on Willow.

"Willow, your ok!" exclaimed Buffy, relief washing over her. Willow felt great relief as well, though she wasn't sure it was her own. Something was wrong, and she certainly didn't feel ok.

"Yeah. What's going on guys, why were you being attacked?" That question sobered the gang, each realising that Willow didn't know what was happening.

"Will…" began Xander, moving closer to her, no knowing exactly how to tell her. "You've been in a coma for some time… since you battled with the senior partners. A lot's happened…"

"Like?" Willow prodded. Where to start, Xander wondered. Dawn dying, Buffy dying, nuclear war… the list went on.

"A lot," said Giles, who was rubbing his head, still sore from the blow. "Suffice to say, we were actually in the process of leaving the continent when those… hooligans showed up. I think leaving is more urgent than ever. I suggest we go to the airport right now and get a flight."

"Airport's closed," stated Spike.

"And that's been a problem since…?" shrugged Giles. Spike smiled devilishly at the watcher, impressed by his daring.

"Good point. And with Willow up and about, we could even fly east and not worry about being shot down. What about Illyria?" Buffy looked Spike in the eye, that name generating ill feeling.

"We'll have to go without her. She'll be fine by herself." Spike gritted his teeth. He didn't like it, but he knew there wasn't much else that he could do. He figured she'd arrive back at the hotel and find it destroyed, then come looking for him.

"Oz?" questioned Willow, only just noticing him. She'd been so caught up in the fight that his presences hadn't registered until now. He stepped forward.

"Hey," he said, smiling. "It's good to see you awake…It's good to see you-" Willow cut him off by pulling his much shorter form into a bear hug.

"Oz! It's good to see you! Man, I have been asleep for a while, haven't I? How've you been?" she asked. Pulling away, Oz looked her over with unsure eyes.

"Uhh…I've been good. Willow, you do know that you're still sheathed in magic, right?" She looked down, and gasped. Colourful magic was indeed ribbioning around her peacefully, the air crackling with energy.

"Oh… I'm not doing that… Giles, why am I doing that?" she rambled, a worried look on her face.

"Oh… umm… I-it appears that your… umm… power is … well, I don't know." Willow gave him an admonishing look, under which he regrouped his thoughts. "My best guess is that your power is so great that it's manifesting itself outside your body. Tell me, how are you feeling?" he asked, squinting at her slightly.

"Like… like I could do anything. I don't know how, but I'm stronger now than I was before. A lot stronger… I feel like I could kick some senior partner butt! I'm also kinda hungry…"

"There'll be food on the plane," commented Spike. "Of course, you mightn't be _that_ hungry…" he shrugged. Willow smiled briefly, the grin turning into a worried frown when she looked hard at Buffy.

"What happened to your face?" Willow asked, referring to the raised scar Buffy branded on her cheek. Buffy touched it absentmindedly. "Oh god, I did that, didn't I? Buffy, I-" Buffy cut her off, holding her hands up.

"Don't worry about it Will, it's just a scratch. I even think it gives me character!" she lied. Buffy had pushed Willow to the limit. Buffy had nearly killed her friend by ordering her to fight. Buffy was the one who should be feeling guilty, and she was going to keep it that way. After insisting that Willow not worry about, Willow seemed pacified, and eventually got onto business.

"Ok, so onto business, shall we go? I'll magic us to the airport. Just stand around me." The scoobies moved closer to Willow, but Oz and Nina stayed back. Seeing this, Willow commented. "You guys coming or what?" Oz shook his head mutely.

"No. Nina and I have other obligations. We're on our way to Mexico. It's where our werewolf pack is. They went on ahead while we visited you guys, but we really should be getting back to them." Willow's heart fell, as did the hearts of the others. Their reunion had been too short and too filled with sorrow, and now there were parting once more.

"Oh…" Oz smiled at Willow.

"I know, we just met again, and now we're going. But we'll see each other again."

"I know."

The gang exchanged goodbyes, Willow, Buffy and Xander hugging Oz and wishing him the best. Nina stayed away mostly, just hugging Angel and nodding at Buffy. Oz and Nina intended to hitch hike the rest of the way to the border. It was a quiet affair, and when it was over, Oz and Nina stood aside as Willow cast a spell on the rest. Willow waved one last time at her only boyfriend, seeing him fade from sight as she was transported away.

With a rush, they found themselves at Los Angeles international airport. It was buzzing with activity, but not passengers. Cargo planes, fighter jets, helicopters and bombers littered the tarmac, the airport being the centre of military operations for the entire southern third of the state. As soon as they appeared, shouts followed, and many green clad soldiers started running towards them. "Over there!" shouted Buffy, pointing to a passenger liner sitting on one of the runways. Willow saw it and teleported them all onto it. She entered the cockpit and started it magically. The aircraft hummed to life and started forward. It was already facing the runway, so all that was necessary was to speed up, which it did with the assistance of magic, taking off far sooner than would have normally been possible. A few shots were fired at the renegade plane, but none hit their target, the bullets dissolving before impact. Up and up the plane went, the scoobies being pressed into their seats.

"Will, they're sending up fighters!" warned Xander, who spied several F-22 planes taking off in pursuit. Willow closed her eyes, and within moments, the planes failed due to engine trouble, falling back to the ground. "That'll do for now, by the looks of it, but there'll be more." Willow smirked uncharacteristically.

"Let them come. We're safe, and we'll soon be travelling at two thousand miles an hour, thanks to a little magical kick."

True to her word, as soon as the plane was level, it sped up quickly, breaking the sound barrier with ease. The danger over for now, the scoobies relaxed, letting their breathing and heart rates return to normal. A long time passed without conversation, everyone just getting used to the idea that they were escaping from a country where it was too dangerous. They were going to be refugees, a disconcerting thought. At some point along the way, Buffy filled Willow in on everything that had happened. Willow became very distressed, understandably crying when Buffy told her that Dawn was dead.

"I can't believe Dawn's dead…" Willow whispered, dismayed. Suddenly, she got a horrible feeling. "You don't blame me, do you?" she asked Buffy. Buffy was very surprised, and it showed, but she quickly shook her head vehemently.

"No. Not in the slightest. I-" she stopped, taking a breath. "If anyone is to blame, it's me…" Willow was deeply relieved that her best friend didn't think her responsible. Squinting at Buffy, she got a feeling of emptiness that she couldn't explain.

"You don't seem that bothered," said Willow tacitly. Buffy looked down, knowing it was true. In fact, she'd barely paid more than a thought to her sister all day. "And… I don't know how I know that! I just… know!"

"What, are you, like, reading my mind or something? Because that's not all it's cracked up to be."

"No," said Willow, shaking her head. "I woke up because I got this incredible feeling of loss and despair. It was so powerful it roused me from my sleep, and I instantly knew you were in trouble… it's almost like I'm reading your emotions. Buffy, I think I _am_ reading your emotions!" she exclaimed.

"What, some kind of spell?" questioned Buffy uncomfortably. If Willow was indeed reading her emotions, she was bound to question why Buffy wasn't mourning over Dawn.

"No, I don't think so, because I couldn't be casting spells when I was asleep… what about before? You don't suppose that when I blasted you in Wolfram and Hart I forged some kind of link with you?" Buffy looked unsure, and was even kind of weirded out.

"Stranger things have happened… hell, similar things have happened. Ok, so you can sense my emotions… can you stop?"

Willow couldn't stop, as she discovered. In fact, the more the tried to stop, the stronger her link with Buffy became, though it was completely one sided. Giles could form little more than a weak hypothesis. After nearly an hour of group discussion, it was decided that they'd leave it for the time being, as a plane wasn't the place to even try to fix it. Eventually, after hours of flying over the ocean, land was spotted. Looking out the window, lights twinkled on the ground midst the darkness. Spike smiled, remembering the fun he'd had here in the 1980's.

"Ladies and Gents, I give you Amsterdam, our new home."

* * *

Illyria was in a tiny village. About a dozen distantly spaced, large one-storey houses lined the road, each with picket fences and driveways. It was a small road of little importance, fewer than twenty cars a day driving on it. Beyond the village was endless meadow. The odd farmhouse and red barn were visible in the distance, as were hills, the grass on them a golden brown. 

Morphing into Fred, Illyria approached one of the houses. It had a large plot of grass around it, dotted with several trees. She walked up the driveway and opened the door. "Hello? Mom? Dad?" she called out in Fred's voice as she looked around.

"Fred?" came her mother's surprised voice from the kitchen. Soon thereafter, Trish came around the corner. She smiled broadly when she saw her daughter standing before her. "Fred!" she said joyously, pulling Illyria into a hug, which the demon-in-disguise returned after a moment of hesitation. She wasn't sure what she should be feeling, but a sense of security overcame her. She felt happy. Pulling away, Trish appraised her daughter. Illyria was wearing a simple beige top, a short frilly purple skirt, and sandals. "It's good to see you! Where've ya bin? We called the office a few weeks ago, but there wasn't any answer!" Illyria smiled a large, embarrassed smile.

"Oh, we kinda got fired for trying to kill our bosses. They turned out to be pretty evil," Illyria said with a ditzy laugh, mimicking Fred so perfectly she could have fooled herself. Trish knitted her brows.

"Evil? Are y'all ok?" Illyria's face fell. She shook her head.

"No. Wesley…he's dead," she said sadly, genuine hurt still nagging her. Trish pulled Illyria into another hug.

"Oh I'm so sorry, baby. I know you two had eyes for each other," she mourned, stroking Illyria's back lovingly. Illyria actually took comfort from the action. She took a deep mental breath, ready to tell Trish more.

"There's…something else. Something happened to me…" Trish pulled back suddenly, fear and worry in her eyes. Of course, her daughter was standing in front of her, so it couldn't be too bad, she reasoned. "I…I breathed in some mummy dust, and…oh boy, you're probably going to find this hard to believe, but…I'm sharing my body with a demon. Right now. As we speak…" Trish stared blankly at her, trying to comprehend what she was being told.

"Right…now?" she queried with a sceptical eye. Illyria nodded. "It's not a bug demon, is it?" Illyria laughed and shook her head.

"No. It's an ancient demon. This is the part you mightn't like…I'm not…sharing, as such. It isn't the right word. It's more like…I've melded with it. We were two, and now I'm one," Illyria said gravely, looking expectantly at Trish. She hoped that the shell's mother would react positively. The reason she'd come here was to try and come to terms with some of her emotions. She believed that the best way to do that was to be around family. She didn't want to lie to them, as lying was something she just didn't do, but she couldn't tell them the whole truth without crushing them, so she decided a half truth would have to do. She prayed she'd get results.

"You're still my daughter, aren't you?" Trish asked gravely, her voice fearful.

"Of course! I love you mom!" Illyria proclaimed. There was more truth in the words than she would have liked. She didn't love this woman, but she had an attachment to her she couldn't shake. "I'm still your daughter. I'm just…also a gazillion year old former god-king of the universe," she insisted perkily with a grin. "Pretty cool, huh?" Trish eyed Illyria for a second more before accepting it. The person in front of her was too much like Fred to not be her daughter. All doubt expelled from her mind, she led Illyria into the kitchen, where lunch was being cooked.

"Well, just so long as you're happy and safe, I'm not worried. You want some lunch? You must be hungry!" Illyria gazed at the frying pan, where mince was sizzling.

"Are ya making tacos?" Illyria asked hopefully, spying some taco shells on the counter. Trish nodded.

"Yep. Just let me put more mince down; I wasn't expecting you so there's only enough for one at the moment," she said apologetically, getting more from the fridge and putting it into another pan. "Your father is at work. He won't be home 'til seven. In the mean time, you can fill me in on everything that's happened since we last saw you-" Trish suddenly had a thought that nagged her. "Say, when we saw you, that was before you fused with this demon, right?" Illyria looked at the table where she sat, unsure what to say. She decided to just go ahead with the half-truth.

"No. I'm really, really sorry I didn't tell you, but it was still pretty new to me then, and I was kinda coming to terms with it myself. Also, I didn't want to spoil your vacation…" Trish sat down grasped Illyria's face between her hands.

"You should have told us then…but I guess I can understand why you didn't. And suddenly I understand why Wesley brought us into his office and said there was something we needed to know about you…why would he do that, rather than let you tell us?" She mulled over it for a while, releasing Illyria and scratching her head.

"It's because I…I can look…different. At the time I was still trying to get used to my new powers-"

"Powers? You have powers? What, you're like a superhero or something?" Illyria mouth remained open for a moment as she decided on what to say next.

"Yeah. I can freeze time, jump dimensions…talk to plants. And I'm as strong as superman," Illyria confessed with a giggle. Trish raised an eyebrow.

"Talk to plants? What good is that?"

"You'd be surprised," she said in deadpan, her tone momentarily reverting to the cold voice of Illyria. Realising she had made her first mistake at acting, she tried to cover it up with bubbliness.

"So, do you wanna see what I look like in demon mode?" Illyria chirped. "No tentacles, I promise. It's not really that impressive. I just go a little blue." Trish looked unsure. She realised that seeing her daughter transform into her demon form might be more than a bit shocking. She'd taken it very well so far, surprising herself. But with her daughter so clearly her daughter, how could she not?

"O-ok. Go ahead. But if I git a heart attack I'm blamin' you!" she chided. Illyria smiled and closed her eyes. She'd dispense with the red suit this time. Such tight leather would probably scandalise her mother far more than being a demon. She caught herself suddenly, as though she'd committed a heinous crime. She had just referred to this woman as her mother. Not the shell's mother, _hers_. Shaking her head, she banished the thought from her head for the time being, focusing on transforming. Her hair, eyes, lips and forehead became dark acrylic blue. Her bare arms and legs were also streaked with blue, right down to her bare toes. Opening her eyes, she saw her mother looking her up and down.

"That's it?" she asked. Trish had been expecting something more dramatic. "You look like you belong in The Blueman Group." Illyria wasn't sure who The Blueman Group were, but she decided not to take offence. She knew this woman was not trying to offend her. "Although it is kinda sexy. You should try picking up guys like that!" she suggested mischievously.

"Mom!" Illyria admonished. "Shame on you. And besides…I already tried…it didn't work out. He was taken…" Trish tilted her head sympathetically and rested a reassuring hand on her daughter's blue-tinted knee.

"Don't worry sweetie, I'm sure the right guy will come along. After all, you're still young."

"I'm older than humanity now, remember?" she said wryly. Trish rolled her eyes.

"Well, you look great, and that's what counts to a young man! How about that Angel? He's tall, handsome, and he won't get old on you…" Illyria shook her head.

"No, he's taken too. 'Sides, I don't think about him that in that way. I like my guys about a hundred years younger…"

They continued to talk and laugh and reminisce for hours. Illyria eventually wanted to visit Fred's room, so she excused herself. Trish decided to start making dinner for Illyria, herself and Roger so that it would be ready when he came home. Illyria gathered all the pictures that littered the house, bringing them to her room. She sat down on the ground at the foot of the bed, cross-legged and with all the photographs splayed out around her. She examined each of them carefully, conjuring up the memory of the particular one she was studying, then moving on to the next one. She could feel the emotions Fred had felt: the love, the compassion, the security. Illyria found herself wanting to know these things for herself, instead of having to borrow them from another.

As she thought of what would happen to Fred's parents if they found out the truth, that their daughter's soul had been destroyed forever, she found herself aching inside. A single tear made its way down her cheek. She swore that she would never tell them. She would lie to them until their deaths to save them from such sorrow. "Fred?" came her fathers voice from down the hall. Wiping the tear from her face, she stood up and smiled, excited that her father was home.

"Coming daddy!"

* * *

Next chapter, the gang get used to their new home. What will Illyria do next? It might be a while, as my new target length is at least 9000 words per chapter. Don't forget to review and tell me what you thought. 


	11. Escape To Eden

I haven't updated in months, I know, but university is keeping me busy. Worse still, this was just sitting in my comp for the last three months. I only now bothered to edit and proof it, but I have a month of holidays, so expect at least one more update before summer. I'm planning on ending the fic in 15000-30000 words from now, so this chapter feels a bit rushed to me...but hopefully it's ok. If you spot any plot holes, please point them out and I'll try to fill them.

* * *

The gang were standing in Schiphol airport, in immigration of all places. They all waited calmly in their lines, Giles and Lea in the line for European citizens, Buffy, Willow and Xander in the line for non-EU nationals, and Angel and Spike in the line for demons. None of them had believed it when they first entered the airport and saw the billboard directing demons into their own line, but there were signs everywhere saying how demons were considered equal under the law.

Sure enough, right beside the line of people from Africa and Asia was a line of demons of all shapes and sizes, most of which Buffy didn't recognise. Some were dressed in suits, others in casual wear. Some could almost pass for human; others looked more like mutated shrimp. Angel and Spike shifted uneasily in line, each uncomfortable about declaring their vampyric nature in public, though they knew there was no point pretending; the security had demon detectors just like the army doctor had, and checked everyone for demonic origin.

People barely paid the demons any hostile notice, though they certainly got backward glances. The country was unbelievingly accepting: Their stolen plane had landed without permission or clearance; Buffy had expected they'd be arrested on site, but only a single police car, along with some fire trucks and an ambulance, had come. After explaining their situation, the police officers had smiled and welcomed them to Europe, escorting them to customs and immigration.

"Do they just let in any demon?" Xander asked Giles, gazing at all the demons in line, wondering how many were evil.

"I don't know, although it's a safe bet that most evil demons wouldn't try and enter the country this way. Look, the authorities take blood samples and photographs of all the demons. Human hating ones would never tolerate such intrusion," Giles noted in reply.

"We're next," said Spike to Angel, stating the obvious.

"I noticed…" The insect demon ahead of Angel was waved through, leaving the way clear for the dark vampire. Angel approached the gate, where a stern looking immigration officer stared him down. A thin, alien looking woman sat beside him, appraising Angel.

"For the record, please state your name, species, age, origin, and any notable powers you have, and be aware that what you say is legally binding; any misinformation and you may be barred from entry, or deported at a later date," the officer said sternly. Angel swallowed, the idea of giving that kind of information to a stranger distasteful, to say the least.

"Umm…I'm Angel. Just Angel … I was born in 1727, and reborn a vampire in 1753. I'm Irish, though I've been living in the United States since 1902. I'm pretty strong for a vampire… other than that, no special powers." The officer looked him up and down, eyes shifting to Spike, whom he guessed was with Angel.

"And you?"

"Me?" asked Spike, pointing at himself. "Umm… I'm Spike… I was born in London in 1853, and reborn a vampire in 1880. My powers include a knowledge of fine wines and the ability to vanquish armies of darkness with a look." The officer raised his eyebrow, clearly unamused.

"I'm sorry, but vampires are listed as evil, and aren't permitted. You'll have to leave." Both Spike and Angel glanced at each other with furrowed brows.

"Wait, we're not normal vampires! We're good. We have souls," argued Angel, feeling tacky for using the soul excuse.

"Yeah, we're bleedin' champions for the powers that be!" said Spike, thumping his chest, earning an elbow to the ribs from Angel, who thought Spike's outburst just made them look crazy. The officer consulted the strange shaped woman he was sitting with, nodding and mumbling. After several minutes of talking, he turned back to the two vampires.

"Today's your lucky day. The psychic says both of your stories check out. Considering you're both European, you're also entitled to passports and full citizenship rights. Go to your nearest passport office in a few weeks time and they'll be ready for you, along with all your documentation. Just give the mandatory blood sample and you can be on your way."

"Really?" said both Angel and Spike at the same time, each amazed it had gone so smoothly. The officer rolled his eyes sarcastically and held out needles to each of them, the syringes attached to vials. Angel and Spike gave the blood samples and were waved through, letting a demon in a suit take their place.

"Pff. European citizens!" Spike scoffed. "I'm British, and damn proud of it." Angel shrugged.

"I dunno…I kinda like it."

On the other side, the rest of the gang was waiting for them, the vampires' entry to the country having taken the longest. Spike filled the gang in on what had transpired, much to their amazement. They walked to the train station at the airport, buying tickets for the central station. They went to the underground station and boarded the waiting double-decked train, heading up the top.

The ride was unbelievably smooth, the train barely making a squeak the whole way. It was dark outside. Though the plane ride had only been four hours, thanks to Willow's magic, they had jumped eight hours forward, for a total of twelve hours' difference, so it was just after midnight. It was hard to believe that just twenty-four hours ago, they'd all been watching a Christmas movie in Los Angeles. Buffy looked out the window. Snow was falling. Buffy could see it blanketing everything. She gazed at it with awe, having only seen snow a few times in her life. Sunnydale and LA were deserts, and even in winter it almost never snowed. Buffy sighed forlornly.

"What are thinking about, Buffy?" asked Willow, who sat across from the blonde slayer.

"Nothing… and everything all at once. There's a lot to think about…" murmured Buffy, looking out over the moving cityscape.

"Well, I was thinking we could, you know, make a list. I sometimes find that listing your problems makes them easier to sort. It kinda puts things in perspective. I'll go first. I can't seem to stop my magic from manifesting…" she said worriedly, eyes following a small wisp of magic that was floating around her head. Buffy looked at the annoying thing and was reminded of fireflies. The ribbons of magic had dissipated, but this remnant wouldn't go away.

"You can sense my emotions… that's something we need to work on. The last thing I need is you falling in love with Spike and Angel," said Buffy wryly. Willow grinned slightly.

"Since neither of them is a gay woman, I don't think that'll be happening any time soon... Speaking of those two, I've been asleep a good while. How's things going on the Angel-Spike front? I sense you're hurt and confused about them right now, but I don't know what to make of it…" she trailed off unsurely. Buffy glanced to the four seats across the isle, where Angel and Spike were sitting beside each other, feet on the seats opposite them, glaring at the other, occasionally arguing.

"I don't know… Angel and I had a huge fight that remains unresolved, and I think… I don't know, maybe I'm just being paranoid, but I think Illyria has a thing for Spike. They spend a lot of time together, and this morning they were bickering. It reminded me of a lovers' tiff," she whispered, so as not to allow the vampires to hear her. "And then Angel's ex comes into the mix and acts way too friendly with him." Willow gave Buffy a sympathetic look. "Actually, that's part of what the fight was about," Buffy admitted, "he isn't too happy about sharing me with Spike." Willow's eyes almost bugged out.

"You mean they're actually doing it?" she hissed at Buffy with a smirk. "You never told me!"

"Oops… sorry, I guess with everything going on I forgot. Yeah, they agreed to it, albeit very reluctantly. Like, super reluctantly…." Willow cast a devilish glance at the pair, then back to Buffy.

"Slut. So, you three have a healthy sex life?" Buffy looked at the floor, embarrassed.

"Nay. Well, sort of. It's weird. I spend the day with both of them, most of the time, but at night…"

"There's a rota?" Willow surmised incredulously. "Yikes. That's bound to leave them sore on their night off." Buffy nodded admissively.

"I know it isn't a perfect situation… but it's the best I could have hoped for. I just hope they'll learn to get along with each other…" Buffy and Willow looked over at the pair, who were having a tug of war over a magazine. Angel pushed Spike's head away with the palm of his hand, recoiling with a yelp when Spike bit his finger. Spike cried out in victory as he wrenched the publication from Angel's clutches, giving him the finger and smirking provocatively.

"You think that's ever gonna happen?" Willow asked gravely. Angel ripped the magazine from Spike's grasp, but only got half of it, tearing it down the middle. They looked at the two equal halves and huffed, each decided to be content reading the pages they had.

"I hope so."

After a few more minutes, the train pulled into the central station. The group got off and made their way to the exit, going under the many platforms to the main floor area and exiting the front door. Just outside were about a dozen trams on a dozen tram tracks. They came and went with speed, confusing the gang.

"So what do we do now?" piped Willow, a question that got everybody wondering. They were, after all, homeless. After a second, Giles answered.

"I suggest we find a hotel and check in. Spike, do you know of anywhere suitable?" After a moments thought, Spike knew exactly.

"Bilderberg Garden Hotel," he said heavily, relishing memories, looking over at Angel. "1893?" Angel pursed his lips, determined not to smile. He'd enjoyed it, though the other guests most definitely hadn't.

"I remember. So it's still there?" he summed up with a raised eyebrow.

"Was in '88. 1988, I should say. We should go there. It's nice, the room service is excellent, and it's near all the attractions."

"Ahem," coughed Giles politely. "I might remind you we're not tourists; we're refugees, or in the case of Spike, Angel, Lea, and myself, full citizens."

"Hey!" protested Willow, Buffy and Xander. Giles smiled, slightly abashed.

"We're not here to see sights. Tomorrow I will look into buying some permanent accommodation…" Xander raised his hand, drawing attention to himself.

"We could do that…or… we could go to the building I bought here for the council, and live there. It's fully equipped with three watchers and a slayer, as well as a full fridge, and ten bedrooms."

"Yes, we could do that," said Giles, slightly flustered that Xander was becoming a fine watcher, but glad nonetheless. "Where is it?" Xander looked around, examining the city. Eventually, he pointed left, over several streets.

"That's it there. Very central location." The gang followed his gaze, seeing a very tall red brick building standing on a corner, the end of a long line of brink buildings. It was about five minutes away on foot. To its left was a main road, but to its right was a tiny alley. They gathered their bags and went to it, going down the alley, which Buffy soon found was not your typical alley. Though it was very narrow and the buildings rose over it like mountains, it was cobbled, and remarkably clean. Even at this late hour, pedestrians could be seen coming from the far end of it, where a café and several shops were open.

Xander knocked on the door, and a few moments later a familiar face opened it. The woman looked down at them, the door being up several steps, gradually a smug look crossing her lips. The gang stared on in surprise.

"How's it goin' guys? What up, B?"

"Faith?" exclaimed Buffy. "You're the slayer stationed here?" Buffy became annoyed very suddenly, for reasons she couldn't quite pin down. Faith threw her arms up in the air and shrugged.

"What can I say? I didn't like it down under. By the way, thanks for that, Buffy," she said with a bittersweet smile, putting her hands on her PVC-clad hips.

"You're welcome. I knew you and Robin wanted to get away, so I lent you a helping hand. You still with him?" Buffy replied in a sugar sweet tone. Faith held up her hands defensively.

"Hold on a sec, B. We were screwing, but we were never together."

"That's all very well and good," began Giles, flustered at hearing about the sex life of a much younger woman, "but can we talk about this inside? It's rather cold out here."

"'Course Jeeves, come in," she said, standing aside. "Spike?" she exclaimed upon seeing the vampire she thought was dead.

"Yeah yeah, I know. I died, came back as a ghost, got better, I don't want to explain it again, if you don't mind," he requested as he walked past the darkly dress slayer, who waved him past, accepting his very brief explanation for now.

The scoobies explained their circumstances and were quickly put up for the time being. Faith showed them around and introduced them to the watchers living there. The house was quite big. It was narrow, having rooms on only one side of the staircase, but it had seven floors and a basement. The building was rickety, though well maintained. The stairs squeaked when you stood on them. The entire building was quite dark, partly because the ceilings were so high, and like many buildings in the city, it leaned slightly due to compressing foundations. The small but rare library they had amassed impressed Giles, who proclaimed he was going to spend the rest of the night looking through them. Xander and Willow proclaimed their intent to sleep; Giles had slept on the plane, but they had not. Buffy was restless, and didn't feel like even sitting down.

"Hey B, you guys actually caught me on the way out. I'm going for a night on the town. You wanna come?" Faith asked Buffy, who was looking around the main front room.

"A night on the town? Faith, it's Stephens day!" Buffy remarked sceptically. Faith shrugged.

"So?" Buffy opened her mouth to say nobody would be out, but Faith cut her off. "Buffy, this is Amsterdam! The city never sleeps, especially now that it has a demon population of a hundred and eighty thousand." Buffy's jaw dropped.

"How many?" Faith huffed, amused at her counterpart's reaction.

"Yeah, and rising at the rate of about two thousand a day. The city's booming, Buff! Every night is a party. Last night was pretty sombre. The city held a vigil for New York at midnight, but bad stuff like that won't get this place down for long. I'm meeting up with some people in a few. We could, I dunno, go clubbing? You look like you need it." Buffy looked down at what she was wearing. Grey slacks. An oversized jumper. Sneakers.

"H-hey!" said Buffy, knitting her brow in annoyance, though she had to admit that the idea of having some unadulterated fun was appealing. It annoyed Buffy slightly that Faith was still able to convince her to go out on a limb and push aside all her worries.

"Relax. I see you didn't bring much with you. No big, you can have some of my clothes," said Faith off-handedly.

"Your clothes?" said Buffy in deadpan. "And look like I'm trying to lay every guy in town?" Faith smirked.

"Hey, you can't talk. I overheard Spike and Angel fighting over you. Seems like somebody's been a busy girl," Faith taunted coyly, swaying her hips at the thought. Buffy turned a light shade of pink, knowing that Faith was thinking about big sweaty three-way sex with her boyfriends. "That's pretty damn kinky, B. Never figured you for that kind of fun. It reminds me of this one time in Sydney… I had just finished slaying this vamp at a concert, and two guys who were watching me do it came over, and-"

"-I don't want to know!" interrupted Buffy with fervour. "Angel and Spike and I don't do that any way. We… take turns," Buffy finished, embarrassed to suddenly finding herself talking about her sex life. With Faith. Faith looked disappointed.

"B, you don't know what you're missing, trust me!" Buffy gave Faith a look, and something clicked inside the younger slayer. "It's not you, it's them, isn't it? You'd do them both in a second, but they won't have it! Damn that's kinky…even I've never done it with two vampires. Or one for that matter…" Buffy opened her mouth to reject the claim, but came up with nothing. Faith gave Buffy a sympathetic nod, which quickly became a nearly face splitting grin. "I know ways we can fix that…" A feeling of dread rose within Buffy. What was she going to suggest?

"Ways?" Buffy squeaked meekly, fearful of what Faith had in mind.

* * *

Buffy and Faith exited the crooked house and looked each other over. Faith was wearing PVC trousers, boots, and a plain black woollen jumper, over which she donned a leather jacket. Buffy was wearing Faith's clothes, having nothing of her own; black leather trousers, heeled boots, and a blood red top. It was cold outside, the snow still falling everywhere, but they were warm enough, their slayer durability helping.

Faith led Buffy deeper into the alley, going around a bend, walking past the busy café. They talked about what had been going on the last few months, though it was mostly Buffy filling Faith in. After a few minutes, the alley opened up into a wide terrace. A canal went down the middle of it, and on each side were footpaths. Buffy gasped at the vast assortment of beings walking around. Midst the glow of red lights, humans and demons stood around, chatting, drinking, laughing, and in some cases, kissing. It was a bustling social scene, going on for as far as Buffy could see, the street being very long.

Shops and outlets of all kinds were very busy. As the pair walked deeper in, Buffy saw some of the shops were run by demons or magic users, offering products like magical aphrodisiacs or mystical healing remedies.

"Pretty cool, huh?" asked Faith expectantly. Buffy nodded.

"Yeah… it's… very weird. You know, walking with demons."

"Hey, I think it's great! The people here are really open minded. This is the only country in the world where demons are equal with humans, and everyone is happy because of it! They've really added to the, you know… culture of the place."

"Faith," began Buffy, eyes wide, "is that a demon _brothel_?" Faith followed Buffy's gaze to a building that had a scantily clad female demon sitting in the window, winking at men as they passed by. Her skin was red and she had horns.

"Yeah. It opened last week. It's really popular among humans and demons alike. I hear it's pricey though." Buffy wondered how such a place could be allowed, but eventually realised. All around her were sex shops, sex clubs, sex shows, sex museums, sex everything. When she listened in on some English conversations, she realised most of the talk was about sex.

"Faith, where did you bring me?" Buffy hissed. Faith grinned mischievously.

"The red light district. Welcome to the sex capital of the world, B. You wanna get some ass, walk up to a window and pay for it. Want to see people have sex on stage while sixty other people watch, go to a live sex show. They're great!" Buffy dropped her jaw, aghast.

"What in the world makes you think I'd enjoy that?" she asked, scandalised that Faith would suggest such a thing. A male voice came from over Buffy's shoulder.

"'Cause you're a dirty girl, pet," said Spike appreciatively. The two slayers turned around. "You girls mind if I join you? I've had enough time with peaches, thank you very much." Buffy didn't look too sure, but Faith smiled and nodded. Spike was someone she was sure knew how to have fun.

"Defo. Come on, blondie, I was just about to show Buffy how to have a few laughs."

"In the seediest area in town…" remarked Buffy, earning weird looks from Spike and Faith.

"You clearly haven't a clue what you're on about luv," began Spike. "The red light district isn't seedy. Far from it, it's one of the poshest places in town. This is the heart of the city." Buffy's mouth formed a little "o" at the news, which she wasn't sure how to handle it. She'd always seen prostitutes and clients as people of questionable morality, but here…

"Look, guys… I think I'm gonna go back to the house." Spike and Faith looked disappointed. "I… I just lost my sister, and Angel and I are fighting…I don't feel like partying anymore. You two go on. Don't let depressor Buffy ruin your day," said Buffy with reluctance, looking Spike pointedly in the eye at the mention of Dawn.

"You sure luv? You don't know what you're missing-"

"-I'm sure," she interrupted, looking down shamefully, hating to leave Spike hanging. Spike shut his mouth, feeling bad for Buffy, but not really knowing what to say to make it better. He figured she just wanted some time to herself. Faith shrugged.

"Your loss, B. I guess Spike and I will just have to party without you," Faith said, grabbing Spike's arm and winking suggestively at Buffy, who rolled her eyes. Strange as it seemed, she knew Faith was just joking. It was weird, but she trusted them both.

"…ok. Come back out of you change your mind?" Spike pleaded with a questioning inflection. Buffy forced a smile and nodded. She kissed Spike briefly, then turned around and retraced the short distance to the house. Spike and Faith turned to each other, smiles playing on their lips, each knowing the fun that was to be had that night. They didn't know each other that well, but the each knew that was about to change.

"Look at that!" exclaimed Spike with delight, pointing. "The Bulldog coffee shop is still open!"

* * *

"Angel?" Buffy asked, peering into the dark, empty library, empty, but for thousands of books. And him. He sat alone, reading in the dark, his vampire senses enabling him to see perfectly in the near absence of light. He looked up, his eyes glinting in the shadows.

"Buffy," he replied, remembering their fight like it had happened only minutes ago. They stared at each other for a long time.

"So…" began Buffy quietly. "Who's gonna go first?" Buffy couldn't see it, but Angel had a nearly imperceptible frown on his face. He didn't reply. Buffy sighed and looked down. "I guess it's me…"

"I guess so," he said with a barely concealed hostility. Buffy let him away with it. She'd had time to think, and she knew he was in the right. She was being very immature getting wound up about his old flames, and being a hypocrite because she had a few flames of her own. She also knew that she had pressured both Angel and Spike into an arrangement neither was particularly keen about.

"I'm sorry. I was being a bitch, Angel. You're right: I have no right to guilt you over what happened while we were apart. I see that now. I want you to know that it doesn't bother me anymore; feel free to talk about it. You don't need to hide it any longer." At Buffy's heartfelt admission, Angel's hard face softened. He was happy that she was able to do it. He knew she needed to get over it, and now it seemed that she was at least trying. Whether or not she had was another matter, but he'd only know by experimentation.

"Thank you Buffy… and I'm sorry I called you a child. You're not. You're a woman, a fact you prove with every day I know you." Buffy smiled. That had gone a lot more smoothly than she had dared hope. She approached him, seeing him more clearly as she got nearer.

"So… are we good?" she asked. Angel smiled and nodded. He patted his lap, inviting Buffy to sit. She did, wrapping her arms around his broad neck and leaning her head against his shoulder.

"Do you… want me to tell you? About all of my romantic involvements?" he queried, knowing that they'd have to exchange stories sooner or later. After a moment of hesitation, Buffy replied.

"Yes. But I want to go first."

* * *

The city was wonderful. The 17th century was strong in this magical centre of civilisation. At night, the city was alive with the weird and wonderful inhabitants. After some initial weirdness, the whole gang threw themselves into the demon culture, though for different reasons. Giles loved learning about them, and had enlisted several watchers to compile new books based on the information he gathered daily.

Willow had been enlisted by the government for a very important project, one that she threw herself into. All over the city, anti-violence spells were being put in place by hired mages, but the city needed the ultimate protection, and someone had obviously believed Willow could provide it. She had spent every day putting a shield around the city that would protect it from a nuclear explosion from a hostile nation. She was getting close to finding a way to do it, and she also had the help of some of the most skilled sorcerers in the world. Where she lacked skill, she supplied power.

Buffy, Angel and Spike were in their usual limbo, Buffy trying desperately to balance her two lovers. She knew that Spike felt somewhat rejected, a fact she had spent some hard time working on, going out with him at night to party. Faith sometimes met up with them, but usually only for a while, the dark slayer always doing her own thing.

Xander, oddly enough, wasn't too keen on socialising with demons. Something about the risk of demon women…

Lea, being so close to her native Germany, had said her goodbyes and headed home. It was strange, but things almost seemed…normal. The war was cooling down. There hadn't been a single nuclear attack since New York, and ground fighting was quiet, though many believed this to be prelude to a major offensive. In the east, India and Pakistan had almost destroyed each other, and had exhausted their arsenals. Africa was still a dark continent, the whole landmass having collapsed into anarchy. From the moderately stable haven of Western Europe, it seemed to the scoobies to be the only safe place in the world.

"I can't believe you've talked me into this," said Buffy, grinning bashfully at Spike, who smirked expectantly at her. Holding a glowing joint in her hand, Buffy brought it to her lips and took a drag, trying not to cough as the smoke filled her lungs. When she'd found out that Spike and Faith had spent their first night hanging out in a hash café, smoking their brains out, she'd been stunned. Firstly, the thought of an illegal drug not being illegal was just plain weird, she didn't know what to expect. Sure there'd been dope at University, but the people she hung out with had stayed away from it. Now it was in her face, coffee shops and 'smart shops' on every corner, and it was bewildering. At first she had strongly resisted the calling, not out of a personal dislike, but out of an instinct that it was wrong. However, it was just as common here as drinking in a bar, so eventually she relented.

"It's ok to cough luv, it's your first try," Spike reassured. "Just do it like this," he brought his own joint to his mouth and took several shallow tokes. Buffy copied him, this time managing to hold the smoke for longer. She exhaled, long jets of smoke shooting from her. She felt a bit woozy. They were sitting in the Bulldog café in the red light district. It was midday, but the tall buildings meant that Spike could keep to the shadows and avoid direct sunlight. It looked just like any normal bar, wooden seats, counter and floor, a barman serving drinks, only with the addition of a cabinet with over 20 different types of cannabis to be purchased and consumed at will.

"I think I'll stop now…"

"What?" Spike said incredulously.

"I'm done," Buffy stated simply.

"But you just started!"

"And when have you known me to enjoy being not sober? Twice in the last ever? If that's what you call enjoyment. Sorry to disappoint, Spike, but I just don't go in for this type of thing. I only did it to make you happy…" Spike had been ready to retort, but that last part drained his will to fight her. Smiling lovingly at her, he relented.

"'Sokay Luv. We can do something else. Any thoughts?" Buffy handed her joint to Spike, who snubbed it out with his fingers and put it in the inside pocket of his duster.

"I was thinking the Van Gogh museum? Or Anne Franks house?" Buffy mused with a mild shrug. Spike rolled his eyes at the mention of the painter.

"Anne Frank, fine, but I'm not looking at that guys art." Sensing a hidden story, Buffy grinned and looked at Spike expectantly.

"You met him, didn't you? What was it like? Where? When?"

"1893. It was bloody annoying. He and Dru hit it off. They'd talk for hours about nonsense and pretend it meant something… Well, I suppose in their minds it was the pinnacle of civilised conversation. Anyway, he put the moves on her, so I killed him. Damn satisfying it was…" Buffy look at Spike in an unsure way.

"Umm… I thought he died in 1890?" she posed, remembering the date from an art student at university.

"Oh, he was a vampire when I killed him," Spike clarified simply.

"Oh," said Buffy, accepting the answer without question. After a short silence, she posed another question. "So who else famous have you met and/or killed?" Spike exhaled a long breath, mulling through the list, trying to pick out the better ones.

"Jack the Ripper? London 1888. The guy was taking credit for Angelus' work, so Darla tracked him down and killed him. Hmm…Rasputin? 1916 in Russia. Nice guy…bit weird. Got turned into a vampire just before the assassination attempt-"

"I knew it!" exclaimed Buffy. Spike gave her a look that made her quiet down. "Never mind. Please, go on."

"Buffy… are sure you want to hear about my days as an evil, murdering vampire? It can't be the most pleasant thing to hear about…"

"It isn't that bad" said Buffy softly. "It's like Thelma and Louise…it's fascinating to hear about. Besides, I want to know all about you. You have so much history, so many stories to tell…"

"Yeah, and most of them are horrible. They're not even mine, they're… his."

"His?" Spike looked down.

"Spikes. The demons'. I don't want to glorify them. I don't feel guilty about them, because it wasn't me who did the murdering…but…"

"It's hard to draw a line between the demon and the man," Buffy surmised. Spike nodded. "So… which are you? The demon, or the man?" Spike looked up, catching Buffy's eyes. They were full of wonder. His weren't.

"Both. The demon is in me, Buffy. You do realise that, right? The demon loves you, but it's still evil, and it's not going away."

"………I know. Spike," Buffy began, leaning closer to him. "Do you ever feel… the urge to feed?" Spike glanced down at Buffy's neck briefly, quickly returning to her eyes.

"Every day."

"…From me?" Buffy knew that was a dangerous question, and she suspected the answer was yes. She didn't know how to feel about it. It didn't bother her, as such, but it made her wonder what being around her must be like.

"…Yes," Spike answered hesitantly. When Buffy didn't immediately reply, he decided to explain. "I'm sure you know this, but to a vampire, the blood of a slayer is…ambrosia. It's like the blood of a deity flowing through your veins. As one of the only vampires to have tasted the blood of two slayers, I'm kind of an expert." Buffy levelled her gaze with Spike and Spoke with great seriousness.

"How about we make it three?" Spike did a double take, having to check twice to make sure he heard her right.

"Think maybe that hash did more to your brain than I thought it would. Buffy, you don't realise what you're saying."

"I think I realise perfectly. Spike, it's what you always wanted-"

"No," Spike broke in. "It's not. Not anymore. What I want is you. And I have you, so I'm a satisfied man." Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Obviously you don't drain me, dummy. Just the odd taste every now and then. Don't tell me you don't want to?" Spike gritted his teeth as Buffy craned her head s as to expose even more of her neck. Her jugular had almost never been more appetising.

"Of course I want to. That's the problem: I want it too much. I won't do it," he proclaimed, not sounding very sure of himself. Buffy sat back in her seat, a thoughtful expression on her features.

"Ok. The offer still stands though." They slipped into a somewhat uncomfortable silence, which lasted some time. It was interrupted by Buffy's mobile phone ringing. Both were grateful for the distraction. She took it out of her jean pocket and glanced at the screen. The caller ID told her that Angel was ringing. She answered the phone and held it to her ear. "Angel?" Spike listened in, his vampire hearing easily picking up the conversation.

"Buffy, we've got our lead," said Angel heavily. "I had a vision." Buffy and Spike exchanged glances.

"What was it?" urged Buffy.

"Pack your bags; we're going to Rome."

* * *

"What's the meanin' of this?" Roger asked. He was in his car, with his wife next to him, and Illyria in the back, who was in the guise of Fred. They had run into a military checkpoint on the road, having been on their way to the big city for a day out together. Three tanks, a transport truck, and about a dozen soldiers blocked the way. One soldier was leaning into the window of the Burkles' Volkswagen, his rifle slung over his shoulder.

"Just lookin' fer demons sir. We'll be done in a minute," he said, motioning for another soldier to come over. Roger and Trish exchanged frightened glances, fearful for the safety of their demonized daughter. The second soldier approached with a demon detector, pointing it at the car. His brow furrowed when he saw the readings. He pointed it at Illyria, getting clear results.

"Mom, dad, I think we should go," she said urgently, fearful for their safety, knowing she couldn't be harmed. Roger nodded and quietly put the car into reverse.

"Hold it! You're not going anywhere! Get out of the car, or we'll fire!" yelled the soldier, aiming his gun at Roger. Roger knew full well what would happen if they got his daughter. This was a central state, and they executed demons on site, and very often imprisoned those who harboured them.

"Duck!" he yelled at the same time he slammed his foot on the accelerator, the car backing up quickly. The soldier fired, but his gun jammed after a few shots. He cursed his unreliable weapon and ordered his teammate to fire. Roger swung the car around, bullets colliding with the tough exterior as he did so. He surged forward as soon as possible. "I think we're getting away! Don't worry, Fred, we're not gonna let them get you!"

"But dad, you could get yourself killed!" Illyria admonished, meaning every word of it.

"Now you shush, honey," said Trish. "We'd never let them take you." Illyria looked around to see one of the tanks move into position. There was also a helicopter overhead, tailing them. They were now about a hundred metres from the checkpoint. Illyria didn't know how they were going to get out of this one. Things did not look good.

The tank fired a shell at them, taking Illyria by surprise. She hadn't expected them to do that, cursing her trust in mercy. Illyria watched in horror as the shell flew at them, only her preternatural senses allowing her to track it. It hit the car. The next thing Illyria was aware of was a tremendous heat. Her vision was filled with white-hot burning, and her ears were bombarded by an unholy crashing sound.

Illyria opened her eyes to find herself in the blackened, burning carcass of the car, everything except the steel frame being vaporised. She rose from the floor, the seats having been destroyed. Her heart was caught in a vice grip when she realised Roger and Trish had been blown to pieces. The faint aroma of charred meat wafted up her nostrils.

"Mom…dad…" A tear began to form, but she angrily blinked it away.

She clenched her fist so hard it hurt. Her whole body shook with rage and hurt. Her face went blue and the leather body suit materialised around her. Though she was mostly unharmed, she felt like a part of her had been incinerated back there. She ached, but not merely because she had the shells' memories; she had grown to like Fred's parents. She felt their love for her, and had been touched. Now they were dead. Her blood boiled and screamed at her for revenge. Within her, something clicked, and she felt a rush of energy that she couldn't account for.

Intending no mercy, she turned her attention to her parents' killers.

* * *


	12. Kingpin

"What happened here?" Illyria whispered to herself as she carefully entered the Hyperion. Stepping over the rubble, she appraised the landscape. The place was ruined. The once proud marble pillars were shattered, lying prostate on the ground. The roof had caved in, rubble was everywhere. The building was unstable, to say the least. The stench of burning flesh assaulted her senses, as well as that of fear and panic.

A feeling of dread rose up inside her as she realised what had happened. She looked around frantically, but unable to locate any dead bodies, she calmed. Soon sensing the trail of Spike, she turned around and followed it to the street. Once there, she sensed a magical disturbance, and realised they had all teleported.

It afforded her some relief, though she still had no clue where they had gone. She re-entered the hotel, coming to a stop in the centre of the lobby. She closed her eyes and debated what to do next. She could wait for them to return, but she reasoned that they might never. She thought for a moment, searching her memories for some clue.

She remembered being cold and crying, bleeding from the wrists as Buffy stood in front of her, clasping her hand. "This is Summers' blood." Of course… Her eyes snapped open.

She instantly knew how to find them. Buffy's own essence had been merged with the key to make Dawn, and some of that was now in Illyria. Realising she had a connection with Buffy, she quickly attempted to figure it out. Once she knew what she was searching for, she found it in seconds. Mentally homing in on Buffy's location, she set off at great speed.

* * *

"I can't believe we're actually doin' this," grumbled Spike from his seat, looking sulkily at Angel, who sat across from him in the train carriage. 

"I don't like it anymore than you, Spike," replied Angel darkly. Buffy, who was sitting next to Spike, rolled her eyes.

"It's not that bad! Now will you two stop acting like children and just accept it?" Spike looked at Buffy in near disbelief.

"Not that bad? Buffy, he's our arch nemesis! He's the scourge of the Scourge of Europe!"

"Shut up, Spike!" admonished Buffy.

"Angel agrees with me! Don't you?" Spike argued, looking over to the older vampire for support. Buffy glared at Angel, daring him to take Spikes side. He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

"The Immortal is the most wretched creature to walk this earth," said Angel. Why the hell did the powers give him a vision of his most hated enemy? Well, ok, he knew why. The Immortal had information they needed. What information, Angel hadn't been privy to. Damn powers.

Buffy sighed and fell into the back of her seat, resigned to the fact that she'd have to put up with this for the entire trip. Ever since the long train journey from Amsterdam to Rome began, the two vampires had sulked and ranted and raged about the vision. At the same time, Buffy had to marvel at how well Angel and Spike were now getting on. They were united in their dislike of the man she used to date, and it was interesting to watch.

An announcement come over the intercom that they would be arriving at the last stop in minutes.

The train pulled up to the platform, and the passengers disembarked. Angel, Spike and Buffy were last. They were only planning on staying for a day, so they had no bags.

"Ok guys, The Immortal knows we're coming, so try-"

"He knows!?" exclaimed both vampires simultaneously. "Why does he know?" demanded Spike. "Now he'll have had plenty of time to think of ways to humiliate us!" Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Yeah right. I rang him to make sure he'd be home when we get there."

"Oh," said Angel, who then did a double take. "His _home_? We're going to his home?!" Buffy gazed at Angel in disbelief.

"Yes! Why is that such a big deal? God!"

"It's a big deal, luv," began Spike, who looked heavily at her. "Because at the height of our fame and glory, even we could never get into his home. Now we're being led there by a slayer who used to date him…it's just a bit of a fall from grace." Buffy folded her arms and glared sternly at them.

"I see. And when did you two ever revel in the glory of your pasts since you got souls?" The vampires glanced awkwardly at each other. They didn't…but they had made an exception for The Immortal.. Getting only a muted silence, Buffy turned her back to her lovers and made her way to the exit. "Lets go," she called over her shoulder, prompting the pair to jolt forward.

Reaching the main road the trio made their way to a nearby taxi rank and hopped into a cab, all squeezing into the back.

"Ah, Engal, a Spike!" greeted the taxi driver. The two vampires, getting a better look at the driver, realised he was The Immortals demon henchman. His bumpy green skin and huge pointy ears were unmistakable. "I've been a-waiting for you. And of course, Ms. Summers. It is an honour to meet someone as close his grace as yourself."

"Why I aughtta!" started Spike, readying his fists.

"Please mister Spike, don't be so bitter about that little deal of ours. It is in the past. Today, you are an honoured guest." Spike clenched his jaw.

"You destroyed my duster!" The demon just gave Spike a toothy grin via the rear-view mirror. Buffy looked Spike up and down.

"That's a new one?" she asked interestedly. Spike gave a last glare to the demon and sighed, nodding to Buffy. "Oh…I liked your other one. I mean, I know where you got it, but still…" Without warning, the taxi pulled away from the kerb and went on its way. There wasn't much conversation at all.

It was a pleasant 20-minute drive through the early night streets of Rome. All three visitors knew the city centre well, and knew well where they were going. They eventually entered the huge gate of The Immortals home, travelling up the long driveway, around the front fountain, coming to rest outside the front porch, which was sided by classical marble pillars. Even though it was in the heart of Rome, the grounds were large, and contained well kept gardens. The demon switched off the engine, got out and opened the door for his passengers. Once they were out, he showed them into the Immortals mansion. The interior was like any mansion, a huge hallway, grand curved stairs leading to the first floor, a massive overhead chandelier, and small pillars with Ming vases symmetrically dotting the ground floor.

"You know it was the Immortal who started this stereotype," said the demon in a matter-of-fact tone, seeing Spike roll his eyes at the cliché. Spike gave him a "Do I look like I care?" look.

"Look, can we just speak to him?" said Angel impatiently. The demon took a breath, readying to say something.

"Eh….no. Only Ms. Summers may see him for now."

"Oh you gotta be kidding me!" objected Spike.

"It is just for a few minutes, then you my both join them." Sensing that Angel or Spike was about to argue again, Buffy shushed them.

"It'll be ok guys, I can handle him just fine…oh, sorry!" she said, wincing when she realised how that statement must have sounded. The pair glared dryly at her, watching as she was led into a room on the left. The door closed behind her and Angel and Spike were alone. They shared a look of disgust and relaxed a little, looking around. Try as they might, even their vampiric hearing couldn't decipher the murmurs coming from the room. After several minutes, the door opened and Buffy emerged alone. The vampires rushed over to her.

"So what's the news? Does he know anything?" queried Angel. Buffy nodded.

"Yeah, he says he knows something. Didn't say what though…he wants you two to do something before he'll spill…." said Buffy awkwardly. Angel and Spike instantly grew apprehensive. They glanced at each other, wondering what vile thing he had in mind. A past trauma flashed before their eyes. "He wants you to make him a meal." Buffy got two blank looks.

"Huh?" came Angel's reply.

"I'll do that in an instant, if he's offering," smirked Spike, licking him lips.

"You know what I mean. He wants you to cook him a Pizza."

"Well…that's not so bad," remarked Angel, slightly unsure of himself. "Weird, but not bad, right?" A pause. "Right?" he repeated suspiciously.

Buffy inhaled deeply. Here came the punch line. "And he wants you to do it dressed as nuns."

Shocked silence filled the cavernous hall. Angel and Spike tried to stutter a reply, but none was forth coming.

"Now guys, I know you're not liking this, but trust me when I say he's not going to tell us any other way."

"B-b-but….you're going along with this!?" raged Spike.

"Hey, I bargained him down from a lot more. He originally wanted you two to repeat your 1894 experience." The colour drained from Spikes face and his jaw dropped. He turned to Angel with a look of utter malice.

"You told her!?" he roared in a nearly panicked tone. Angel looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"It was-" he didn't get a chance to reply, because Spike leapt on him, knocking him to the ground, and started banging the older vampires' head against the marble floor. Buffy rolled her eyes and pulled Spike off of Angel.

"Hey! We're here to get information to save the world, remember? Not bicker about something that happened 112 years ago when you were both evil. And I pressed him to tell me, Spike. Besides….I think it's kinda sexy," Buffy finished on a lighter note.

"You do?" wondered Spike, all anger suddenly drained. He loved when Buffy thought he was sexy. But then he remembered why, and his scowl returned. Angel rose painfully, rubbing his head, grimacing when a spot of blood was seen on his fingers.

"God, you two are so homophobic! Get over it, ok?"

"Buffy, it's not that we're homophobic, we're vampires after all," said Angel. We're vampires _after all_? What did he mean by that, Buffy wondered coyly.

"It's that fact that it was him," finished Spike.

"And the fact that it was the Immortal," added Angel. A few moments of silence ensued, and Buffy gave them both looks that told them she understood.

"So…will you do it?" pressed Buffy, reverting to the original subject. After hesitating a few moments, Spike answered.

"I will if he will." Buffy smiled and turned to Angel, the pressure now on to accept. Angel sighed.

"I will if you never, ever, EVER tell anybody. Ok?" Buffy gave them both the eye, a naughty twinkle sparkling like a mischievous fairy.

"Ok," she whispered daintily with a small grin.

"……………………..How do you cook a Pizza?"

* * *

"I still can't believe you want to hang out with me, Willow," laughed Faith as the pair strolled down the streets of Amsterdam. "I was such a shit to you. I treated you like a looser in high school, tried to kill you an' all?" Willow shrugged.

"I'm over it. Besides, I tried to end the world, so I think we're at least even, considering you're in the world. As to why I'm allowing you to hang out with me," joked Willow with a huge grin. "I want you to show me around the city. I just got here, but you've been here for a while. Where's a good place to get down with the magic?" Faith laughed as she thought of all the places she knew. Since the city became demonised magic was everywhere. In the 8 months Faith had been here, the city had been transformed into a place with magical kingdom qualities.

"Babe, there's more places than I can count. But I assume you mean the bigwigs, huh?" Willow nodded. "Say, you're not addicted again are you, cause I heard about that," questioned Faith with knitted brows. "Addiction isn't good, I know. I had…problems when I was younger…until I became a slayer. Then suddenly the cravings went away. I realised I'd been handed an opportunity to escape, and I didn't look back." Willow was surprised at this admission. Faith never talked about her life to anyone, but now she was opening up to her? She assumed it had something to do with the "sharing of the darkness". She chuckled softly.

"I'm way beyond physical dependency, Faith. If I tried to suppress my magic completely I'd end up hurting someone. I have to train myself to manage it…but it's getting easier. At first, the slightest thing would set me off, but now…I feel like I'm solidly in control. Ever since I awoke from the battle with the Senior Partners, it's like…like…every time I go over the edge, the better I get at staying away from the edge, you know?"

"Yeah, I know…so, solidly in control?" asked Faith with a quirked eyebrow, pointing to a whiff of magic that had taken to circling Willow. Willow blushed.

"I'm workin' on it, ok?"

"Jes' buzzing with ya Will."

"I know. Although I think this little guy has something to do with that link I have with Buffy…it gets really active when her emotions are running high. Like, right now she's feeling amused and slightly annoyed, and the magic reflects that. See? It's glowing pink, and moving slowly but erratically."

"Cool. You should name it. Say, how does being connected to Buffy make you feel about Angel and Spike? Wait, don't answer, I think I know. Nothing at all, because if it worked like that, you'd hate me. Am I right?" Willow laughed.

"Mostly, but Buffy doesn't hate you…just….has a disliking of you, bordering on grudging respect…" They walked on for a minute without talking, just admiring the sights. Willow turned to Faith with a serious expression. "It really bugs you, doesn't it?" Faith considered playing dumb, but decided against it, just nodding. After a moment Faith decided to elaborate.

"I bet she thinks I should still be in jail serving my time…I kinda do too…"

"I know…but she won't make you. She'd be a hypocrite if she did, and she knows it. Buffy's changed a lot since high school. Things aren't black and white like they used to be. Granted, Buffy tried her best to stay white, but now she's kind of a murky grey. The only one of us on the team that hasn't murdered someone is Xander…try as you might, people get caught in the cross fire…sometimes the fire is aimed at them because our guns have been….Ok, I'm gonna stop that analogy….it made sense in my head but you probably wouldn't get it…"

"I think I get it, but…only Xander? No way! What about…" Faith trailed off, trying to think of the other scoobies. "Giles!" Willow pursed her lips and shook her head. "No way, Giles!?"

"But don't tell Buffy. Giles shared that with me when I was recovering in England to make me realise that good people who do bad things can still be good people." Faith went quiet. She had never thought of it that way. She thought on her past, about her one time father figure. She wondered could bad people who do good things ever be anything but bad people. The walk was now over, the pair having reached their destination.

"We're here," pronounced Faith, turning to a large medieval Cathedral.

"Where?"

"The biggest "magic box" I know of. When the demons moved in, the religious moved out, but forgot to deconsecrate the grounds, making for an extremely powerful catalyst for non-dark magic. At least that's what I've been told," said Faith bashfully, realising she sounded like she knew what she was talking about when she really hadn't a clue. "It's been rented by the city to a mages guild in exchange for setting up protection spells. These are probably the guys that asked you to help."

"No, that was the government."

"Maybe they sub-contract?"

Willow looked up at the towering gothic arches of the massive building, about 100 metres tall. "Wow. I can feel power emanating from this place. It's been building for centuries. Nowhere in America has this much natural energy. Well, except a hellmouth, but that's really unstable…American churches just haven't been around long enough."

"Yeah, how does that work anyway? I've always wondered why Christian stuff hurts evil stuff."

"Dunno…but I think it's because the Catholic church secretly hunted demons and stuff like that, and made crosses special. I've done the holy water enchantment. All it does is imbue it with the magical equivalent of anti-matter that attacks the essence of vampires. It's a simple spell that all priests learn, though most probably don't realise they're using magic!" Faith laughed at this information.

"Irony in a bottle…" Faith walked into the Cathedral with Willow in tow. The witch was awed upon entry. It was unlike any idea she had of what a European cathedral should be like: silent, empty but for a few praying souls and a few tourists. This place was noisy and bustling with people. Magic was flying everywhere as people practiced spells, some obviously beginners floating their first pencils. There were levitating candles everywhere. It reminded her of what she'd imagined Hogwarts to be like. She and Faith pushed their way past the crowd. It was notable that all the pews had been removed to grant a huge floor space. Willow was smiling broadly, and even laughed at some of the funnier spells going wrong. It was truly a school of magic, as instructors were keeping an eye on things.

Reaching the fore, Willow strode confidently up the plush, purple, carpeted steps and approached a man who could only be described as a wizard. He was old, bald, and had a long white beard. He was sitting at a wooden desk, engrossed in a magical tome. He looked up at the new arrival, his kind and full face breaking into a startle when he saw Willow.

"Ah, so you're the great power I felt…I must say, I expected you to be old, and demon." He leaned forward and lowed his voice. "Tell me, how did a young girl come by so much energy?" Willow blushed at the flattery.

"Just unlucky I guess."

"Unlucky? Well, I can imagine you've probably had a hard time with that kind of energy. So, have you come seeking knowledge? Or more power? Either is fine, I have nothing against those on the side of good seeking power."

"Mostly knowledge. I have all the power I need…I'd just like to be able to control it better. You know almost none of my reality altering spells has ever gone right? Even little ones like memory alteration! But some people with less power than me can alter the minds of thousands of people just fine…not that I want to of course, I mean, why would I? I'm not some megalomaniac trying to destroy the world. No sir-re! Not me at all, and I'm rambling aren't I?" The old man nodded.

"Chillax Will, you've been doing it a lot less these days," offered Faith. Willow huffed and started again, more calmly.

"I want to learn, and I want the best teacher I can get. I don't want to go slowly either." The old man put a bookmark in his book and closed it, folding his hands.

"Then welcome to The Mages Guild. My name is Artemis and I'm the arch mage. I've been head of the guild since 1920, and I offer to train you myself, if the best is what you are looking for." Willow was taken aback, albeit pleasantly. She hadn't expected such a good response to her admittedly cocky demand.

"No way, your that old? You only look about…well, 100, no offence, but…I take it you look good for your age?" remarked Faith rudely. Artemis nodded sagely, not disclosing any more details. "How do you do that? Some kind of philosopher's stone? Cause I wouldn't mind looking young for longer…Although I wonder if slayers age at all?" she mused to herself aloud.

"A Slayer? You certainly do keep unusual company. I bet you have some interesting stories," Artemis said to Willow, who rolled her eyes in agreement.

"Loads. Like this one time I cast a "Do my will" spell, and made my other slayer friend and this vampire who kills slayers fall in love? And now they actually are in love?" Artemis laughed out loud.

"Perhaps we can exchange all our stories someday? I have many, many of my own, though I admit, none _quite_ as ironic as that…but close."

"Hey Will…speaking of Buffy and Spike, look," Faith said, pointing to Willow's magical firefly. It was blue and was zigzagging frantically. Artemis raised a brow at the mention of Spike. "What's that mean?"

"It means Buffy is laughing, I think…but I've never seen it like this. When she's jovial it goes sky blue and hums, but this is just….man, she must be in stitches. I'll have to ask her what was so funny when she gets back."

* * *

Buffy, Angel and Spike strode from the Immortal's mansion with haste. The two vampires were adjusting their coats, and Buffy was poorly concealing muffled laughter. The vampires had deep scowls etched into their faces.

"I still don't see why we didn't kill him," said Spike hotly. "We got what we came for, which, by the way, was so not worth it."

"Yes…but…b-but it was _so_ funny. Seriously, I haven't laughed that hard since Harmony tried assembled a gang to kill me. I mean…the wimples! Besides," she said more calmly, trying to regain her composure. "It's over now."

"But he got it on video…" said Angel darkly. "And besides! Spike is right, it wasn't worth it. He didn't know anything. He knows someone who knows something; someone Spike and I _already know_!"

"Right, the CEO of the Italian branch of Wolfram and Hart," said Spike. "That's not helpful information! Certainly not worth…what we did. We shoulda poisoned him! Put lethal mushrooms on his damn Pizza or something! And what kind of person likes 38 different toppings on his Pizza anyway? It's unnatural!"

"So is being a vampire," pointed out Buffy with a grin.

"A different kind of unnatural."

"And the info _was_ helpful. He told us that she's no longer loyal to the Senior Partners and will help us. And before you start, I trust him. I know he's…shady, at times, but he's not evil. I think. I was going out with him for 8 months; I think I know him. Furthermore, the Rome branch of Wolfram and Hart is _the most important_ branch in this dimension. According to him, it's been there since before he was born." Angel and Spike stopped in their tracks and glanced at each other.

"He told you his age?" asked Angel with amazement.

"Yeah? Why, that weird?"

"Well, yeah!" remarked Spike. "Nobody knows how old he is."

"Well I do. I guess he has a soft spot for me…never told me his name though. Lets just say he remembers when Rome made the transition from Republic to Empire. Wolfram and Hart was here since Rome was founded, but as Rome grew in power, it became the most important branch. Even after the fall of Rome, it stayed the most important because of its location and because of its history. To have that branch on our side is a major weapon." After a few more moments of disbelief, Angel and Spike began moving again.

"Whatever. Let's just get this over with!" Spike said. "I really hate Italy."

* * *

The elevator doors opened with a ding, and Angel, Spike and Buffy entered the main offices of the Italian branch of Wolfram and Hart. Angel and Spike were apprehensive, but Buffy seemed perfectly at ease.

"Angel, Spike! Welcome, welcome back!" came the heavily accented voice of the female CEO as she approached, her low cut top barely containing her huge bust. She pulled them both down for loud, exaggerated kisses on the cheek. "The Immortal has told me of your arrival. He MMSed me the video of you two making Pizza. It's a very nice! You should dress like that more often!" Angel and Spike exchanged horrified glares. "Oh, and this must be a-Buffy. These two went to _great_ lengths to visit you last time they were here. You are an extremely lucky woman," she said, winking at Buffy and giving both vampires a prolonged appraisal, making all three blush. "Anyway, we're here for business, not pleasure, so come, come into my office and we shall talk."

She led them into her office, identical to Angel's old one in every way, except her wall was hung with paintings instead of weapons as Angel's had been. Once they were inside, she carefully closed both doors behind her guests and then walked around to her desk, sitting in the seat. She motioned for the three to sit in the awaiting seats before her.

"We aren't being monitored here. CEO's privilege. And of course, thanks to you, Wolfram de 'arte, cannot monitor anywhere in this dimension anymore. I must say, destroying the Circle of the Black thorn…quite a feat. The Immortal 'imself could not have done it." Angel and Spike sat up, taking it as a compliment, small smiles growing on their otherwise downtrodden faces.

"Really?" said Angel. She caught on that they took solace in the statement and smiled warmly.

"Really."

"You know about the Circle?" pondered Angel. "Huh…I guess all CEO's know…they just didn't tell me." She smiled and shook her head.

"Eh no. CEO's are not automatically entitled to knowledge of the Circle. Only those of the Rome, New York and Beijing branches are, and even then only knowledge; membership is not certain. Your recent elimination makes me glad I refused their invitation."

"You refused? Why?" asked Spike.

"I did not want to be affiliated with such an organisation. They are filthy, like, Gypsies!" Spike couldn't help but grin slightly.

"But you have no problem being CEO of Wolfram and Hart? For that matter, why _are_ you helping us?" quizzed Buffy. The CEO shrugged her shoulders.

"We do some bad, we do some good, but mostly what we do is make money. The Circle was there only to do evil, like filthy communists! No money, no enterprise! Not everyone who works here is evil, nor is being evil a prerequisite for being boss. I just happen to be good at making money. It's how I got the job…with a little bit of help from the Immortal. He is a good contact to have, and he provides quality entertainment. Have you seen any of his movies?"

"Can we please stop talking about him?" begged Angel. She smiled.

"Of course. We shall speak of him no more! And as for why I am helping you…." Her tone softened. "I liked the world the way it was. I don't like it now. Chaos is rampant. We are loosing money. This is the Rome branch, the most important, and we're loosing money! People are too busy dying to fight battles in court. I believe in business, and I believe in man, not evil, or demons. Nobody foresaw this world war coming."

"Anyway, down to business," cut in Buffy, who found herself not liking this woman.

"Of course. What is it I can do for you?"

"We know that all the branches of Wolfram and Hart are contributing resources to some huge project," began Angel. "We wanna know what."

"We'd also appreciate an update on how reconnecting is going," added Spike.

"Ah yes….The Project."

"Project X" said Spike, nodding, glad she was going to cooperate.

"No, actually, project Y. Angel was project X. Anyway, the project is going to achieve the partners' ultimate goal," she said, emphasising the last two words. That piqued Angel's interest. Once he thought about it, it wasn't sure what their goal was.

"Which is?" pushed Buffy. The woman looked pointedly at Buffy.

"I was getting to that. You would do well to learn patience. Anyway, in short, their ultimate goal is a return to the Demon Age. They want to eliminate humans-"

"But why now?" asked Angel.

"Besides, humans are doing it themselves. 50 million dead in just a few months? It took 6 years in world war two to clock that many," Spike pointed out.

"That is the point! The senior partners' ability to do evil on the scale they do relies on mankinds own capacity for animosity. This isn't a fixed value in a timeframe, an era, or even an individual. When a person is hateful, the partners grow. When hate is absent, the partners grow weak. They are intrinsically linked, why, I'll get to in a minute. The more hate, the more power. Fear, and anger too. Negative emotions. What would generate more hate, fear and anger than the end of the world by man's own hand? The number also matters. 6 billion souls today is far more potent a tool than the 200 million alive two thousand years ago."

"I see…" said Angel darkly. She shook her head dangerously.

"No, you don't see. This weapon does far more than that. The "resources" we contribute is a metaphor for our dark mystics channelling the negative emotions into a "bomb". But this bomb isn't just going to kill humans. It will bring back the demon age. There are more dimensions than you can imagine, trillions of individuals, some even more powerful than The Partners, like the Powers That Be. This weapon is old. It was first conceived of in the middle of the demon era. The Wolf, Ram 'and Harte, they were weak. They were also ambitious. _They created man_. They gave him free will, and they helped man survive in a dangerous and hostile world. Now, man is the most powerful living race of all dimensions. The Partners linked themselves to man so that as man grew, they grew. Of course, they foresaw the destruction of man, and planned for it. Think of it like this: They removed a chunk of themselves and attached it to man. The chunk cannot exist without being either with man or with the partners, and when man goes, it will re-attach to the partners. The thing is, it has grown exponentially since it was first attached to man, and when man goes, they'll get it back, whereas now they can only influence it. In other words, they'll get even more powerful when the bomb goes off.

"But why, you ask, create man at all? The partners knew they were no match for the demons of old, so they created man to remove the threat of the great ones. They knew man would out-do the old ones. They see it as germ warfare; man is a plague unleashed on demons. Unforeseeably, man and demon mixed, and the impure walked the earth."

"Like vampires," said Buffy in understanding.

"Like most living demons. The Partners hate these abominations. In other realms there are pure remaining, but they are outnumbered by impure. Being of pure race and being an "old one" aren't the same, of course. In fact, the "pure races" are impure descendants of Old Ones.

"The bomb will kill every single demon in every single world that is contaminated with human DNA. The partners see this not as mass genocide, but as cleaning up their own mess. What will remain are a relatively small number of pure demons, still numbering in the hundred of billions mind you, who will worship the partners and fear them, both as the ones who removed the impure, and as those powerful enough to end existence if they wanted. The Partners will be reborn as gods, lording over every living life form, much in the same way your friend Illyria once did. Those strong enough to single handedly take on the partners are long dead, locked in the deeper well, destroyed, sometimes by each other, but more often by humans, believe it or not. Lets just say the last few hundred thousand years have been a dark age for man, who had his golden years in the last few millennia of the demon age. With dark legions of pure demons and no opposition, even the Powers That Be would not be safe, and would eventually fall before the might of The Partners. It is the ultimate plan. They single handedly ended the demon age with the sole intent of restarting it on their own terms. They've had millions of years to consolidate their power, and are in the last nanoseconds of their plan. It seems, Angel, that what you did was the catalyst."

"The Shanshu was correct…I played my role…only on the wrong side. I've ended the world. But…it mentions a reward? I'm to be rewarded for this?"

"No, the reward was for what you were supposed to have done in the hellmouth two years ago. We gave you the amulet to stop The First. Had you worn it, you'd have become human. But Spike wore it, and it wasn't tailor made for him, so he became a ghost instead. The Partners believed that the Shanshu was referring to The First's apocalypse, but when that went wrong, by default it must have referred to theirs. You see, certain immutable laws of magic dictate that that type of prophecy _cannot_ be forfeit. If it fails, it must readjust. The definition of apocalypse is tricky. To the Partners, this isn't the apocalypse; this is the proverbial big band. The definition of reward is also tricky. It says one of you will become human, but humans will die if it goes the wrong way. In that case, you'd still get the reward, having played your part, only instead of being human, you'd become part of that "chunk" I told you about; part of them. Technicalities aside, they realised either you or Spike was going to play a role in their apocalypse, a role other than saving their one from the First's one. I know they hired you before they realised this, but this was just to make you do the deal to get the necklace and save their apocalypse from a setback. By the way, they were also grateful for you ending Jasmines anti-apocalypse. She was taking away your free will, the very thing the partners had granted you in the first place. That one really had them worried; Jasmine was close to acquiring that "chunk" of their power attached to humans. She was going to use their own power and their own creations to destroy them."

"So our parts have been played……." whispered Spike dejectedly. "We were pawns this whole time…Well, we knew that. I guess we just thought it was the PTB that pulled the strings…this is unbelievable…"

"How do you know all this?" asked Angel darkly.

"It's here," the CEO said, handing Angel a thick folder which she took from a drawer in her desk. "I found it lying on my desk the day you destroyed the circle. All CEO's got one. It contains instructions. The partners expected this chaos to happen, and they also expect many branches to betray them. Betrayal doesn't matter now. They are no longer the Senior Partners. They are The Wolf, The Ram and The 'Art. They do not need all their branches to help with the bomb, though there are many branches run by zealots who have been promised a place in the new order if they cooperate. Furthermore, this is the only dimension where any branches are run by impure demons or humans, so after the cleansing, they'll still have tight grips on other realms.

"Before you ask, I am obviously not helping with this project. I am actively fighting it. It's civil war among the Earth branches. Over half have been destroyed, and it has certainly slowed the progress of the bomb. At this rate, we have several days, maybe even a week before it goes off."

"Days!?" exclaimed Buffy, who until now had been shocked into silence. She had to admit, this was the worst apocalypse she'd ever faced, which was really saying something. "If you're so against this, why didn't seek our help before?"

"I thought you were all dead," she replied simply. "The family of Arch Duke Sebassus was not happy, to say the least. I assumed they'd killed you. I know the army got sucked into oblivion, but I just thought they'd have sent more. I'm amazed they didn't. Besides…compared to a multi-billion Euro empire, what good are two vampires and a couple of slayers? I didn't think it would be worth the effort to find you. But you've come to me."

"So that's where they went," remarked Spike in a distant manner. "S'pose it's where we'll go when we die in this explosion. Unless we become one with the partners…sometimes I wish Dru had just killed me in that alley… You think it'll hurt?" Buffy stood up suddenly, knocking her chair over.

"I'll show you what good we are. And Spike, I can't believe you're giving up! We'll fight, and we'll win, just like we always do! We'll assemble all the slayers, we'll get the military, we'll enlist people on the streets. We'll enlist evil demons with human blood if we have to! This affects every single being there is, the vast majority of them for worse."

"It's like going up against god…." said Angel. "Destroying our creator…I had no idea it was this huge…The Powers That Be...so that's their agenda. They want to save their own asses. They know if the Senior Partners succeed, their number will be up. They don't care about us at all...we're so tiny to them...motes of dust...mayflies that die so soon after being born we may as well not live at all."

"You're giving up?" accused Buffy.

"It does seem a bit hopeless…" said Spike. Buffy opened her mouth to speak, but Spike cut her off. "But what the hey, I'm in. May as well, nothing better to do. If we try, we'll probably fail, but if we don't try, we fail anyway. Like Pascal's wager it is!"

"He was actually bluffing when he said that," commented Angel, who then got up from his seat. "I'm in. I'm sick of being a pawn, but I guess I always will be, but I'm gonna fight. I'll show them this pawn can corner the king if it has the help of those it loves," he said to Buffy.

"Good," said Buffy. "But I'm no pawn. I never believed in fate, and now I find out prophecies that don't work out "readjust"? That's another way of saying nothing is set in stone. All that stands between victory and us is a disorganised Wolfram and Hart! We strike hard and fast. We wipe out every, single branch. We remove them from this dimension. Without the means to burn the fuel of human evil, their plan will fail."

"Now we're talking. It's fuckin' war baby, and we're gonna win!" exclaimed Spike. "Ma'am, thank you," he said to the CEO. "Now, about weapons…you have any stealth bombers?"

The four continued to talk, about strategy, about what they faced, about things that would help them win, at which point a secret listener lost interest. Outside the doors, Illyria walked away, a dark look of deep contemplation upon her icy features.

"_Interesting…."_

* * *

_  
Well, two chapters in short order. But not a single review for the last one! I know exactly how many people read that one, and not one of you reviewed? Shame. I wish I'd done this before the pool of readers had dried up. It used to be a good story would get hundreds of reviews. Anyway, we're nearing the end. It's going to be big. Chapter wise. One or two more. I've already finished the next chapter, but it's so short (about 3000 words) I might just tack it onto the beginning of the last chapter...but then you guys wouldn't see it til New Year at least, because it's gonna be VERY long. Like, 20,000 words long. Let me know what you want!  
_


	13. Ultimate End

"Good morning Giles!" chirped Willow as she and Faith came in the front door. Giles glanced at the clock on the wall. It read seven-thirteen.

"Good morning Willow," came his reply from the kitchen, which was just past the stairs. He was sitting at a table, drinking tea and watching the news. Before him was an empty plate covered in crumbs, remnants of breakfast. "Where've you both been?" he queried politely.

"I'm really tired, I'm gonna turn in, ok?" said Faith to Willow before running up the stairs.

"Night! Or morning…" Willow called after her. Once Faith was out of sight, she strode into the kitchen and sat across from Giles, ready to answer him. "Oh, Giles, it was great! Faith took me to this Cathedral where the world's most powerful mages guild is based. I'm now enrolled there. I say enrolled like it's university, but it's more like I'm an apprentice. I have an apprenticeship with a great arch mage," she said giddily, thinking how much like a fairy tale it was. "He's not as powerful as me, but he has micro control over his magic! He could outdo me in anything apart from wanton destruction. He already taught me to suppress that magical whisp that kept floating around, and I'm not linked to Buffy anymore! It was like a loose string getting caught on an edge; you don't pull to break the string, you snip it. I could reconnect if I wanted to, to anyone that is…oh it was great! I learned so much in such a short time!" She'd said it so fast Giles wasn't entirely sure he understood it all, but he could tell she was happy.

"That's wonderful Willow," Giles said earnestly. "It seems he's taught you more in a night than I managed in a year." The mirth vanished from Willow's face, realising she was dismissing Giles' help. She replaced with one of horror.

"But your help was great too! Just what I needed at the time," she said, mentally wince at how lame she sounded.

"Thank you, Willow," smiled Giles, knowing how she had meant it "Tea?"

"Oh, yes please."

Giles removed the tea cosy from the pot and poured Willow a cup of tea, something she'd become quite fond of since spending time in England. "So, what did Faith do all night?"

"Oh, she tried some spells for fun," said Willow, sipping from her steaming cup. She went on the explain the beginners she'd seen. "She…really sucked, have to say. She should stick with the physical. She's good at physical stuff."

"Are you interested in her?" Giles asked abruptly. Willow's jaw dropped.

"W-What?"

"Forgive me if this is too bold, but you did spend all night with her, she's an attractive woman, and I'm sure she'd be open to-to-"

"Giles, I'm cutting you off. Firstly, I meant fighting when I said physical! And I'm so not interested in her at all! But I'm starting to think you might be, what with the "she's attractive" and stuff! Besides…you're Giles! You shouldn't be asking-no, gossiping with me about that sort of stuff."

"Because I'm old?" he asked, mildly offended. Willow rolled her eyes.

"Because you're not a gay woman."

"…Touché. I just had the thought because I've never known you to be single except when you were head over heels about Xander." Willow pursed her lips.

"Nah…I think I'll stay single for the time being. I'll wait 'til the world stops ending. Speaking of which, any news?" she asked, motioning to the TV.

"Yes, actually, good news. Creighton Abrams was assassinated."

"The President of the Central States?"

"Yes. He's the one who ordered New York destroyed. He was a fanatic, and he's been replaced by, well, another fanatic, but one who has promised not to use any more nuclear weapons in the war."

"That's great! I mean, it's a long way from peace, but still!" Giles agreed with her wholeheartedly. They chatted for a few more minutes about how things were back in America, but stopped when further conversation was interrupted by Buffy, Spike and Angel materialised in the kitchen via magical teleportation. Giles and Willow stood up in surprise. "You're back. Magic, eh? How'd it go?" asked Willow. Buffy rested her hand on her forehead, not looking forward to having to tell them what they had learned.

"Let's put it this way, red: We're all working _with_ Wolfram and Hart _against_ the Senior Partners." He got blank looks from Willow and Giles. He licked his lips and laughed. "Just thought I'd confuse you."

"You guys ready for a long and disturbing talk?" asked Buffy. They nodded, though Giles was tempted to cheekily say 'Do we have to?', deciding against it at Buffy's look. "Get the others. Get every one we know. This will take a while. This is big Giles…compared to this, the First was kindergarten."

"Should this be an "Uh oh" moment?" asked Willow apprehensively.

"The biggest "Oh" you'll ever say, Will."

"Oh."

* * *

The gathering was in progress. Everyone they could get on short notice was packed into the large sitting room in the front of the Dutch house. The ceiling was 16 feet high, giving the impression of space when in fact there was none. About 30 people were crammed in, the room so packed people had to resort to sitting on the floor, on the arms of chairs, and even in their friends' laps. Willow, Giles, Xander, Faith and Angel were the only ones Buffy knew, the rest being watchers and slayers she didn't even know the names of. It felt so familiar. 

Spike elected not to attend, saying he'd no desire to hear it all again, or contribute to any plan. He was sitting in the empty kitchen, drinking a mug of blood and contemplating the future when Illyria entered. He stood up as soon as he saw her.

"Illyria!" he exclaimed. He was about to say he was glad she was safe, but caught himself before he insulted her. "It's good to see you. I haven't seen you since the morning after you got really drunk…" and put the moves on me, he remembered, suddenly feeling slightly awkward. Seeing she didn't, he pressed on. "Where've you been?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

"To see Fred's parents." He noticed she didn't refer to them as the shell's parents.

"Oh. How'd that work out for you?" Illyria cast her eyes down.

"They're dead. Murdered by the military for harbouring me. But before they died, it was…good. An experience I will miss." Spike was surprised by the compassion in her voice, but didn't comment on it.

"How'd you find us?" he asked instead.

"The key has given me a link to Buffy. I followed the link." Spike scoffed.

"I bet Buffy won't be happy about that…" he muttered.

"It is extremely faint. I had to concentrate just to locate it. I don't think it will bother her any more than my existence bothers her."

"You don't normally concentrate, huh?" surmised Spike with a raised eyebrow. She cocked her head at his statement.

"No. Almost everything comes effortlessly to me."

That statement struck Spike like a truck. He couldn't believe nobody had thought to ask this before, including himself. He really hadn't been doing a good job with the clipboard…

"Wait, just gotta ask blue, stuff like freezing time, dimension jumping…that's easy for you, right? You don't break a sweat or nothing?"

"No. It comes to me as easily as sunlight passing through space."

"But the Senior Partners needed a catalyst as powerful as the key to open a gateway between dimensions?"

"I have always had this ability, and many more. It is why I was strong and they were weak. The opposite is now true both because I have lost most of my powers and they have learned most of theirs, but by default I am the greater." She let this sink in for a few seconds before continuing in a darker, quieter tone.

"The Wolf, Ram and Hart; you all act as though they are gods because they have great power, but they are no more gods due to their power than humans are due to their science. Take away their money and their acolytes, take away their mystical artefacts and their tricks, and they are little more than demons, shadows of beings like myself." she said, her voice barely above a whisper, eyes downcast. Spike raised an eyebrow.

"That goes along with what we learned in Rome…you gotta hear this-" Spike began. He explained everything he heard. Illyria pretended she hadn't been listening to the whole conversation in Rome, though remained stoic throughout Spike's talk.

"That is…far sighted of them," Illyria remarked at the end, a tiny smile playing at her lips as she formulated a possible plan.

"So _they_ defeated you?" questioned Spike, eager to hear some factual history about her rather than the usual vertigo.

"Of course not! How dare you insult me in such a manner!" Spike rolled his eyes. He could tell this was an empty outburst, devoid of any real fury, more like a knee jerk reaction.

"Well with all due respect, your highness, someone defeated you. Otherwise you'd still be god-king of the universe, wouldn't you? I want the truth if you're going to say anything, ok?" Illyria stared Spike down, but faltered when she saw his determination. Looking away, she caved.

"I will tell you…how I came to be defeated." Eyebrows shot up.

"Really?" said a surprised Spike. He'd been bluffing, not expecting her to say anything. Looks like he struck gold.

"Yes. But I tell you this not as a friend, but as my high priest. You are not to repeat it, understood?" Spike nodded.

"Promise." She paused for a moment, and began.

"I do not know how long the demon age lasted. I was born into it, how, I do not remember. The early years are hazy. I have no parents; I was not raised. I was always what I am-what I was-" she corrected herself "-for as long as I can remember. The early ages before my time are unknown to all, too far gone to be remembered. My time, I shall divide into three ages: early, middle and late. The early age saw me learning all I could, travelling dimensions in search of awe and wonder. I saw worlds that are now only distant memories, as many of them I never found again. I crushed all life before me as one would crush grass walking a trail; I didn't even realise it. Of course, in this primitive time, there were no civilisations, only tribes at best…this stage lasted ten million human generations. Of course, humans were not around then…

"As time passed, my mind cleared; it was as though a sentience grew where before had been a primal force…much like becoming sober after being extremely intoxicated. I realised I had followers, lower beings who believed that if they worshiped me, I would spare them. I did. And so my Kingdom was founded. The choice of dimension was arbitrary. This time, when my kingdom existed, this was the middle age. I assembled armies and conquered every inhabited dimension I could find. So great were the numbers of dimensions that I hadn't enough soldiers to occupy them all, so they had to be reconquered constantly; a single generation of absence, and they ceased to be loyal. After many re-conquests, they learned their lessons, but there were so many dimensions…I'm sure I only ever walked half of them. Most beings were so weak compared to me I took no notice, but I became aware that other beings existed, other beings that now reside in the deeper well. We number only a few thousand. None of us knew where we came from, and all of us were immortal. I saw my Empire's population and systems rise and fall and with the times; times of prosperity, and times of plague and famine. I cared not for the workings of the Kingdom and took no part in them. I stayed on the battlefield. If I was not there, I was in Vahla ha'nesh enjoying nightmares torturing my subjects. My Qwa'ha Xahn's changed so often due to their short lives that I barely noticed when they died. I would sometimes be out at war for a hundred years, and return to find my kingdom under occupation from heretics who did not believe I was real. This was the golden age of my reign as god. It was also the first time I heard of The Wolf, Ram and Hart. They paid me tribute in my court…

"That age lasted only one million generations. It was halfway through the final age that humans first appeared…that age lasted just 4 short million years. My previous conquests had angered many, including other old ones, and my Kingdom was going through a particularly degenerative few millennia. About a thousand years after I saw my first human, an army appeared on the horizon of the city of Vahla Ha'nesh. It was twenty million strong, and with almost every old one I had ever met at its helm. It was a surprise, and my armies were in other dimensions. I was alone, and the combined power of the other old ones was enough to suppress my ability to jump dimensions. Not that retreating had ever crossed my mind; I didn't think I _could_ loose. I fought them alone, my palace sentries either fleeing in terror or turning against me. Millions were felled…but…I…" Illyria had to steel her nerves. "I was unable to defeat them all. I slew over half of the old ones…but dying and exhausted, I fell in battle. I do not know what happened after that. I was told by my Qwa'ha Xahn that in the event of my defeat, the temple would be sealed and the armies of doom returned until I rose again. I did not believe it possible to be defeated…perhaps had I been more careful…" She fell silent, her deep blue eyes downcast. Spike didn't say anything. He realised just how hard it had been for Illyria to tell him that.

"So you see, humans and the Senior Partners had nothing to do with my fall. It…was my own undoing….but my undoing was the undoing of the demon age. Within two million years, human slayers had killed all the old ones in this dimension. You know the rest." Spike thought for a moment.

"Wait a minute, what's so special about this dimension? You just said it was arbitrary. Why do the demons have such a fondness for it?"

"Because it is where the seat of my throne was," answered Illyria, as though he were asking the most easily answered question in the world. Spike accepted the statement at face value. "To claim total dominion over this dimension is to inherit my throne; If you sack Rome, the whole empire falls. Own this dimension and you can claim all others."

"You're getting pretty good at human history."

"……Dawn liked it."

"Oh…" A somewhat tense silence ensued.

"Illyria!" came Buffy's voice from the doorway a minute later. She slowly turned around to face Buffy. "When did she get back?" she asked Spike.

"I arrived a few minutes ago. Address me, not Spike." Buffy folded her arms and complied, looking Illyria in the eyes.

"It's good you're here. We could use your help. It's war, something I hear you're good at." Illyria closed her eyes and recalled the distant memory of battle, true war. She trembled with delight.

"What do you need me to do?" She also had a use for Buffy, but she'd have to cooperate to get results.

* * *

It was 9pm. Buffy had been awake well over 24 hours, and she was getting ready to fall asleep. The meeting had become more than a meeting; it had become a command room. They'd spent all day planning their move, but truth be told, the majority of their energy had gone on coming to terms with what was happening. 

First there had been shock, then denial, then over an hour of questioning the evidence for such an event. Illyria and Spike had eventually joined in, and Illyria had convinced them to believe. Surprising all who knew her, she'd gotten up and made a speech about the history of The Partners, and how such a thing was indeed possible as their ultimate "spring cleaning". Willow had created a magical feed with the Rome offices, and the matter was discussed with the Italian CEO. Eventually they settled on a plan.

They moved out tomorrow at noon. A massive strike on every remaining branch of Wolfram and Hart still loyal to the partners was what was going to happen. With the Rome offices and The Council working together, victory was not as far off as it might have been, but most still believed it was slight. There had been other friendly branches of Wolfram and Hart, but they'd long been destroyed by the evil ones. Rome was safe because no one dared to attack the mighty Rome branch without the approval of the still disconnected Senior Partners, according to the CEO.

The biggest branches, such as Tokyo and Beijing offices, would be destroyed by Willow and Illyria. Middle importance ones, such as those of Cape Town, would be bombed using military weapons owned by the Rome branch, and smaller ones would be stormed by gangs of slayers and Watchers Council special operatives. Teleportation was to be provided free of charge by Rome. The goal was to remove every branch in the world, but no one was naive enough to think they'd win every battle. Many were going to die. Buffy was once again faced with the prospect of leading people into battle, but not dozens, like last time; Thousands. Giles and Xander had made good progress with the council since getting that infusion of cash, and now had almost 600 slayers in the ranks. Of course, most of them were horribly inexperienced, but in large groups even mighty battle demons would be no match for them. The majority of those doing battle were not slayers though; they were essentially mercenaries, some human, some demon. Some were employees of The Council and of Rome, others merely hired hands, others volunteers. Even if they didn't get every branch, each one they destroyed would delay the bomb by hours, so even marginal victory would suffice, buying enough time to regroup.

"You tired Buffy?" asked Angel, who came up behind her, embracing her from behind. He snaked his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck. They were standing in the hallway outside Buffy's bedroom, on the top floor.

"Mmm…you have no idea. I want to sleep…need to be energised for tomorrow. You ready?" Angel nodded. Spike came up the stairs, treading warily.

"Hey luv. How you feelin'?" he said, approaching Angel and Buffy. Angel kept her in the hug from behind.

"Yawn. Tired. Going to bed." Spike glanced at Angel's possessive hold and her and felt a rush of jealousy. This could be their last night alive and she was with Angel instead of him. "Come with?" she asked, holding out her hand and gazing at him softly. Spike took it without hesitation. "Come on," she said, leading them both in, shutting the door behind them, plunging the room into total darkness.

They'd never together slept in the same bed before, but neither Angel nor Spike was willing to complain. Neither desired to either, which was just plain weird. They both put it down the fact that they might not have another chance to be with Buffy.

Not even bothering to take any clothes off, they got under the covers, Buffy in the middle. It was pitch black and eerily quiet, even to their preternatural senses.

"We might all die tomorrow," murmured Spike quietly, though in the silence it was easily audible.

"I know…" replied Buffy simply.

"Just wanted to say it out loud. If I die and you don't, I want you to know I'll always love you."

"I'll always love you as well, Buffy," said Angel. "We both will. We'll be there to support you." Buffy smiled in the darkness.

"I know. You're both strong." That gave Buffy a thought. "Guys, before I die tomorrow, there's a question I want to ask. I've always suspected, but never really known…why are some vampires stronger than others?" she asked sleepily, almost in a daze. There was a short pause as each vampire waited to see who would go first.

"It's blood, Buffy," Angel began. "When a vampire drinks blood, he gets a rush of strength, making him more powerful than normal. This lasts a few hours, then he goes back to his regular strength."

"Of course some of the strength is kept," continued Spike. "A tiny fraction is added permanently to our power, which is why older vamps are stronger than younger ones. Drink the blood of a slayer or two-"

"-Which we've both done"

"-And you get a large permanent boost. Anything else we're forgetting?" Spike asked Angel.

"Well, being descended from The Master helps a lot…he was…like, _really_ old."

"Oh…so you're both pretty weak right now, because you drink pigs blood?" Buffy guessed. Angel shrugged.

"I wouldn't say weak…but yeah, it knocks us down a peg."

"Oh. That explains why you were both so much more dangerous when you were trying to kill me…human diet made you better," she said seriously. "Spike, Angel…I love you both, and I trust each of you with my life. Do you trust me?" she said in a bare whisper. No verbal reply, but she could feel two affirmative nods. "Then drink from me. You need the strength. I'll be fine…Angel when you nearly drained me to death I was able to fight the Mayor in just a few hours. Just take some and I won't even notice." If their hearts beat, they'd be thumping in their chests right now. Angel wondered why he was even considering it…could it be that before she was a child, but now she was old enough to truly understand the weight of such an offer? Or was it that he was convinced of her strength? He didn't know.

"Are you sure, luv?" came a tiny whisper in her right ear.

"Yes."

She could feel Spike tentatively moving closer to her neck, hovering just above it, as though her were afraid to go any further. She felt fangs slowly slide into her skin. She hadn't realised they were sharp enough to be so painless and smooth. She noticed Angel was hesitating, so she pulled him closer, pressing him to her. After a few more moments she felt a similar sensation on Angel's side. They both held her, and she pulled them closer to her, getting rid of any gaps between them. Her breathing was heavy due to the emotional intensity of the experience. It was like nothing she'd ever felt before. She'd been bitten, but this wasn't biting…it was far more. It was soul sharing. She felt connected to them both in a way she'd never felt before. It was near bliss, and all three of them wished she had more blood in her body so that it wouldn't have to end so soon. After a few minutes of gentle suckling, they reluctantly broke away.

"Enjoy that?" she whispered. They both nodded in amazement, having felt the same connection as Buffy had. "Well there'll be more. Every night if you like."

"…if there is a night after this one," said Spike, stroking Buffy's scar.

"There will be. There always is."

* * *

Illyria, alone in the dark sitting room in the house in Amsterdam, went over all that was happening. Deep hatred of The Partners brewed within her, embering like a coal chamber. She went over her death many times…why had her foes chosen _then_ to murder her? Though she had no evidence, she could not help but think that those who once paid her tribute may have played a part in organising such a battle. It was too perfect for them…the mightiest had fallen, both Illyria and those who were merely dozens of orders of magnitude weaker than her, rather than millions; the weaker old ones had survived, having not been significant enough for Illyria to bother with in the final battle. With only the weak remaining, all that was needed was patience, and the humans wiped them out…then, possibly fearing their own creations, or possibly just putting a leash on them so they didn't have to micromanage, The Partners had cast the mind spell… 

Brilliant. She couldn't help but grudgingly admire their foresight and ingenuity. She was handed her power on a platter, but they had worked hard, and were on the brink of becoming what she once was. Of course, the working part was something lower beings did (for she had never had to work at what came as naturally as breathing), and that was all they were; lower beings, beneath her in every way.

Higher plane…

Illyria scoffed quietly in the darkness. There was no such thing. There might be different planes, fundamentally changed from any dimension like this one, but they were invented, fabricated to be playgrounds for the powerful and the snobby, those who deemed themselves too good to be polluted by the common races that existed everywhere else. She never had such insecurity; she knew she could never be polluted. Or so she _had_ thought…but times had changed. She had changed. She mirthlessly wondered why she had never created her own higher plane.

Upstairs, she could hear the sounds of the other inhabitants. Specifically, she homed in on Willow. The witch was still awake…but not very much so. She must be falling asleep right now. Waiting for twenty more minutes, until she was sure the only one who could sense was she was about to do fell asleep, Illyria focused on the key within her. That filthy, disgusting surrogate soul that made her ache, made her desire…made her love.

The key opened the lock on dimensions. Illyria was already able to do this. If fact, she suspected that the being who forged the key had a similar ability. It was old…it dated back to a time Illyria remembered only hazily. It did have one advantage she did not; it knew every dimension. Every acre, every being, every molecule. They were all indexed with omniscient accuracy. Illyria wasn't aware of such information, as the key, though part of her, was not she. She did have access to it though, and had only to summon the information to find out. In much the same way one would look through the index of a trillion-page book, she searched. Passing over the dull masses, she searched higher planes, and found remarkably few when compared to the multitudes of other, mostly empty dimensions. The Senior Partners' realm…she found it easily. It was blocked; no way she could get in with her powers as they were now. But another higher plane was available. Smirking, though her eyes were still closed, she held out her hand and opened a portal. White light shone from it brilliantly, lighting up the room. She braced herself, having never been to a so-called higher plane before, and stepped in.

* * *

Illyria came through the portal and found herself in a lush paradise. Flora was everywhere. In the distance, surrounded by trees that would tower above the highest mountain on Earth, was a waterfall even higher, white crystal water cascading down for miles, though it's scale was so grand it looked frozen in time. Above the cliff the sky was almost black, though it was deep blue everywhere else. The physicist in Illyria told her it was because the cliff was so high it displaced the atmosphere, and without atmosphere there could be no blue. 

Everything was hazy in this alien world. Things didn't seem real; Illyria's mind was clouded, and she became dizzy. If she shook her head and concentrated, things became normal for a few moments, but the veil of confusion came back quickly. She stumbled forward, tripping on a root and crashing into a small stream. The chill of the water sobered her, and she shot up.

"Is someone there?" she said aloud. For the briefest of instants, she had detected life, but now that the thrall was overcoming her mind once more, it was gone. Stepping tentatively out of the stream, she steadied herself of a tree, but soon found herself unable to stand. Her legs collapsed from underneath her and she fell to the grass, landing softly.

"Why…..is this h-happening?" Even in a vacuum or an atmosphere of poison she could easily survive. She let out a ragged breath and slipped into unconsciousness, crumpling into a heap.

Two figures strode over to her. They were dressed head to toe in radiant white that positively glowed. As Illyria slept, the reality she had seen crumbed away until nothing was left but they and she, floating in an infinite white void. "Poor fool…she was not equipped to deal with a higher plane, so she constructed in her own mind what she thought it would look like. Shall we cast the spell?" the female being asked its male counterpart.

"…yes. I don't see why she shouldn't be able to survive here. She, of all beings is worthy."

"You don't think she will try and destroy us? The idea that there might still exist beings older than her will upset her."

"…she might. But even if she does _try_, she will still play her part." The two figures gazed at Illyria, and their will was done. Slowly, the demon god began to stir.

* * *

Illyria's head was swimming. It was like nothing she'd ever felt before. It was like the very laws of physics were acting differently around her. She remembered what had happened…that Garden of Eden…she tried to open her eyes, but found she had none to open. She had no body, no feelings, only a sensation of floating…and of company. 

"It's awake," came a male voice, sounding disinterested.

"What have you done to me?" Illyira said, though she used no mouth or tongue. She expressed herself via a mechanism she did not know of, but was nonetheless sure that she had been heard.

"We saved you. You come to a higher plane and just expect to survive? What arrogance," said the female. Still groggy, Illyria replied.

"I'm no fool…a "higher plane" is just an illusion. You created this world yourself. How, I do not know, but it reeks of the artificial."

"…True," said the male after a pointed silence. "We created this realm when we out grew the last."

"Out grew?" The female took this question.

"Certain magicks weigh so heavily on the fabric of reality that they cannot co-exist. Only by creating a place where they could we were able to stop the total destruction of the universe. We did not want these powers, or ask for them. We don't know how we have them. All we know is…there are those who would seek them; those who do not understand what it means to wield such power. We cannot use this power to interfere with the worlds below, as it is too great, and would destroy them. This is why we have agents, Champions, to do our bidding."

"How did you come by this power?"

"How did you come by yours?" came the masculine reply, the perfect answer. "Certain beings seek to destroy our realm. Only by undoing the very fabric of our reality can our power be devolved to the lower plane. This is what the Wolf, Ram and Hart seek to do. They believe they would be able to control what even we cannot. Though we could destroy them if they set foot in our world, we are almost powerless outside of it, the energy being woven irretrievably into space-time."

"And to answer your first question, we have granted you to ability to comprehend higher planes. When you first arrived, your mind was struggling. Any lesser being would have died in an instant had they not first taken the necessary precautions. Only your power saved you from that fate," the female answered, her toneless voice echoing in Illyria's head.

"_My power…_" Illyria mused bitterly. She believed these beings utterly…she just _knew_ they were telling her the truth. She didn't think they were able to lie. "You are more powerful than I ever was…" She had a thought, and grew bold. "So powerful, you daren't wield it lest it destroy you. That is not true power. You never tasted what it was like to enjoy the fruits of your wasted potential," Illyria challenged, unwilling to be anything less than equals with these beings, which was more than any other being had ever been to her.

"Perhaps," said the male. "But we have no desire to wield power. We have no desire to do anything. We just _are_, always have been, and always will be. We have neither pleasures nor displeasures. There is just us, and everything else. The good and evil of the world does not interest us. Why do we help? No other reason than to prevent our power falling into the wrong hands. Selfish in nature, undeniably, but what is nature but selfish?"

"You, on the other hand," began the female, in a slightly commanding tone, unlike her previous ones of eternal disinterest. "Love power. We are going to tell you have to get it. What you do with…well…that is up to you. Either way, our will will be done. You can be the most powerful force to have existed for a billion years, if you so desire. The question is, do you want power unlike anything you have ever dreamed of?" Mentally, the female told Illyria what she meant, and the scale of it humbled the once almighty god. She truly understood what it meant. She thought of what she was being offered…she thought of her life before…the glory. She thought of her life now. She thought of Buffy, who for all intents and purposes was her sister. She thought of Wesley…of Spike. She discarded all of her previous plans, none of them having the greatness of this one. Mentally levelling her "eyes" with The Powers That Be, she replied.

"I do."

* * *

"_Oh god, please don't let this be so…I don't want to wake up. It's too soon."_

Spike opened his eyes slowly, blinking away some sleep. He hadn't slept that well in a long time. Being next to the woman he loved all night was bliss, even if Angel was just on the other side of her. He turned his smiling head to the person next to him, and nearly shrieked, just barely managing a manly bellow.

Angel's eyes shot open, and finding himself in Spikes loving embrace had a similar effect. They pushed each other away so violently they each flew from the bed, crashing into the floor. Shooting their heads over the bed, they looked at each other in horror.

"You're not Buffy!" cried Angel.

"D-damn bloody right!" Spike stuttered. After a second a horrible thought crossed his mind. "That had _better_ have been your knee sticking into my-" be said dangerously, but stopped when Buffy walked in the door, soaking wet and wearing nothing but a single towel.

"Hey guys!" she chirped, stopping when she realised they were both on the floor. "Whatchya doin' down there?" she asked innocently. The pair exchanged gob smacked looks of horror, which gradually subsided to the look one gets after seeing an extremely scary movie.

"Why didn't you wake us?" asked Spike.

"Because you both looked so cute cuddled up like that," she said blondly. Seeing their faces, she giggled. "I didn't want you both fighting over who got to shower with me, so I took one alone. You got all cuddly as soon as I left. You obviously missed me badly. It took me ten minutes to pry you both off me though!"

"Well…at least we weren't like that for long," reasoned Spike, whose adrenaline levels were coming down to normal. "Are you naked under there?" he suddenly asked, pushing himself up with his elbows. Buffy got a devilish look in her eyes. Raising one eyebrow coyly, she pulled gently on the towel, causing it to fall away, pooling around her ankles. Both the vampires' jaws dropped as she stood before them, naked, steaming and wet, her hair plastered down her back. Lumps formed in their throats and they stopped their unnecessary breathing, their minds too preoccupied with Buffy to bother.

"Answer your question?" Spike nodded dumbly. He'd seen her naked loads of times, but this time was different. Perhaps it was the fact that she was wet…or the fact that Angel was on the floor on the opposite side of the bed watching the exact same spectacle…or possibly the fact that he might never see her naked again, and was taking in her beauty more than normal…or some disturbing combination of the three. It didn't matter; all Spike knew was she was stunning. Angel couldn't help but notice that he wasn't as bothered by Spike seeing her as he thought he would have been. All there was was Buffy.

Buffy walked over to a chest of drawers and withdrew a fresh towel, scrubbing herself with it, getting dry as quickly as possible. "Come on you two, get dressed. It's almost time to go," Buffy said seriously, all mirth suddenly gone from her voice. Tearing his eyes away from Buffy's body, Angel looked at his watch, his eyes widening when he realised it was eleven. At twelve sharp, they'd be automatically transported to a branch of Wolfram and Hart, so they had to be ready for battle.

The mood broken, they all got dressed hastily. Spike was the last, his boots taking a while to strap up. Once done, he rose from his sitting position on the bed and strode over to the door where Buffy and Angel were waiting. Buffy kissed them both, one after the other, no words being said, and then they went downstairs.

In the kitchen were Giles, Willow, Xander, Faith and three other slayers, none of whom Buffy knew even to see. Meals were being had, and weapons were strewn about the place. Buffy sat down and poured herself a glass of milk, feeling like eating was the last thing she ever wanted to do.

"Um…question?" timidly asked one of the Slayers, an English girl of African descent. "I wasn't here for the big debate last night, so I only got the plan, but…why aren't we just going after this bomb thing? I know a bit about magic, and that much energy isn't just floating around. It's being stored somewhere. Right?" After a few moments when no one answered, making her think her question mightn't have made much sense, Willow answered.

"You're right, there is most definitely a repository for the energy-"

"A _what_ for the energy?" asked Buffy incredulously. Spike couldn't help but burst out laughing, and Angel and Giles looked mildly embarrassed for her. Willow rolled her eyes.

"A _re_pository, and it's somewhere on Earth, but…we don't know where. And even if we did, we don't know how to deactivate it. Destroying it would release the energy it has already in a gush of power…"

"No more continental shelf?" remarked Spike.

"No more solar system. We're talking supernova," Willow corrected.

"Willow is quite right," said Giles, sipping his tea. "Destroying t-this…this energy-well is not an option. When we do find it, we need to either use the magic within for something productive, or let it diffuse slowly. Or we could let it sit there, but that would be rather like storing nuclear weapons; ones that don't need a code and that every evil demon there is would be after."

"Oh," said the English slayer. Willow irked a small smile.

"We were gonna cross that bridge when we came to it."

"Oh! A _re_pository!" burst Buffy in understanding, instantly looked embarrassed and flushing red. Willow grinned, but chose to ignore Buffy's statement.

They slipped into silence. The un-named slayers and Faith trickled off after a while, and Spike and Angel excused themselves so they could buy some blood in the butcher's around the corner, more out of habit than hunger; Buffy's blood had filled them, and each felt stronger than they had in a long time. The only time Angel could remember feeling this powerful was when he had tasted Hamilton. Soon it was only Buffy, Xander, Willow and Giles.

"We've come so far…" said Buffy.

"Yep," agreed Xander. "People come, people go, people die, but not us. We're here since the beginning and in it for the long fun."

"Except Buffy," pointed out Willow.

"Huh?"

"She died," clarified Willow.

"Yeah, but she does that all the time. I don't really take her seriously anymore." Buffy chuckled at Xander's observation. They sat in silence for the rest of the hour, enjoying each other's company, and reflecting on all they'd been through together. Each loved the other, each had risked their lives for the other…they'd gone through so much, but there was one last thing to do.

Spike walked in at five to noon, carrying a broadsword and The Scythe, which he handed to Buffy. "We've got a small problem," he said heavily.

"Don't say that," begged Buffy tiredly. "What?"

"Illyria's missing. She was meant to be here at this time. We need her to take out Tokyo branch." Buffy looked down, shaking her head.

"She skipped out on us. Well, it wasn't wholly unexpected. Will, can you swing by Tokyo after Beijing?" Willow nodded.

"Sure. After that, I'll meet up with you guys. Which branch are you headed to?"

Angel strode in the door, also with a broad sword, a grin on his lips. "L.A. It's one of their most important branches, that's why Buffy Spike and I are taking it. Also, I also thought it would be ironic, so I asked…"

As soon as he had finished his sentence, the air changed in pressure, growing warm. Heat waves caused light to bend, and a vortex opened up. The gang stood up, weapons in hand, knowing it was time, and teleported to their respective destinations.

--------

Buffy, Angel and Spike materialised outside the offices of the Los Angeles branch of Wolfram and Hart. It was eight time zones back from GMT, making it four in the morning.

Memories of Dawn's death came to them as they gazed at the place where she had died, and all felt regret for the girl that never was, sharing a moment of mourning before pushing all thoughts from their minds.

"You think they'll have the place locked down?" asked Buffy. Angel nodded confidently.

"Yes. But that never stopped anything from getting in before…" Buffy tiled her head to the side with a quirked eyebrow. Angel shot her a look that said 'don't ask'.

"Showtime. And guys…we don't have time to discern bad from evil." Angel and Spike nodded sombrely, knowing what had to be done. "Everything dies," she whispered, deathly serious.

With heavy hearts they entered the front door, ready to slaughter everything in their way.

"Well…this is jolly," said Spike with a furrowed brow as he looked around. Someone had already done their work for them. Dead bodies lay strewn about the place, including several battle demons. It was a killing field. Barely a tile of floor could be seen. This place had been heavily guarded, they realised. "What could do this apart from us?"

"B-blue…" came a whimper from the mass of bloodied corpses. Buffy surveyed the carnage, and spying movement, rushed over to a dying security guard, who was cradling his entrails in his arms. "Blue hair…strong, fast." Buffy looked to Spike, wide eyed.

"Illyria," Spike surmised. Turning back to the guard to ask more questions, they found him silent, death mere seconds away. "Looks like she's doing our work for us."

"Or she's perusing her own agenda…" murmured Angel, looking out of the corner of eye in deep thought, arms folded. Why would she vanish, and then show up here, of all places? What possible motive did she have? If she wanted to kill, she could have gone to the Tokyo branch of Wolfram and Hart like she was supposed to…what did she want?

"But what-"

"My god," gasped Angel, looking up suddenly. "The bomb is here!"

"_Here_? What makes you think that?" asked Spike. Angel wasted no time in making for the lifts, leaping over bodies, beckoning the pair to follow him.

"From what place is more fitting to bring back the demon age than the exact location of Illyria's Kingdom? Why did the Partners use _this_ branch to try to reconnect to this realm? Why is there so much security? Why did the subject of the Shanshu get to be CEO of THIS branch? And why, for last 5 years, have the powers sent me visions of trouble in LA?" he called over his shoulder as he pressed the button on the elevator. It was all falling into place. "LA is the focal point of everything the Partners have been doing since its foundation."

"So if the bomb is here, where?" asked Spike urgently. "And why would Illyria want it?" Angel and Buffy looked to each other, then to Spike.

"She's going to try and get her powers back…it's the only thing I can think of. What else would have the mystical power needed to return her to her former glory?" Angel hypothesised. The lift arrived with a ding and the doors opening to more carnage, a dead body slumping forward. Buffy grimaced and stepped over it, and Angel pushed it aside.

"So where in the building do you think she's going?" Buffy asked Angel.

"I know exactly how to find out."

"Just follow the bodies," said Spike disgustedly. They did just that. This was just like the time the Beast has destroyed the office. Everything was damaged; dead bodies were everywhere. Some were human, but most were powerful sentry demons. They began to realise that they could not have succeeded in their task of killing everything, as there were simply too many demons. There were also humans with automatic weapons. The carnage was absolute, but it had direction. They followed it, their feet becoming covered in blood, until they came to a place that meant they had reached the end: the roof. Taking deep breaths, they burst through the door, exiting the stairwell and finding a sight to behold. A huge machine of some sort was occupying about a fifth of the total floor area. It began on the ground with scaffolding, holding up a huge glowing ball of what seemed to be glass. It was held about ten feet from the ground, resting in the circular scaffolds like an egg in a cup. Stairs led up to a control panel in front of it, and at the controls was Illyria.

"ILLYRIA!" Spike shouted over the powerful hum of the device. "STOP!" She didn't take notice; instead she continued to be engrossed in what she was doing. Getting a better look, Spike saw there were no controls on the panel. She seemed to be concentrating, so Spike guessed it had a mystical mechanism. The blue orb began glowing more brightly, and the humming grew until it was shaking the very building. The steel scaffolding shook noisily, but held firm.

"There's no time!" cried Buffy, who took off in a mad rush. She bounded up the stairs, Scythe at the ready, and brought it down upon Illyria. Illyria cried out as it sliced her back. She could feel blood begin to ooze from the long gash. Turning around, she saw Buffy swinging again, but she batted the Scythe out of Buffy's hands, sending it flying to the far side of the court where it landed with a clatter. She then kicked Buffy in the midsection. Buffy managed to jump backwards just in time to minimise the effect of the strike, and she landed painfully at the bottom of the stairs. Angel and Spike rushed up to Buffy to make sure she was all right. Illyria now faced them, her cold face streaked in blood. The glowing ball eased and the humming died down. "We have to distract her!"

"Fools! Stop attacking me! You cannot stop what I am about to do, so do not even try. I do not have time to talk. This device will be useless to me if I don't act now!"

"Yeah, that's kinda the point!" exclaimed Angel, sword at the ready. "Getting your power back is all you ever wanted. Your mind is so small, so simple, that you can't think of anything else! Things like you belong in the deeper well. You should have stayed!" She eyed them for a moment, her gaze passing over Spike. His was filled with anger…she sighed inwardly. All the more reason to continue with this course of action.

"You _cannot _stop me and you all know it." No sooner had the words left her mouth than she was torn from the top of the stairs by a vicious unseen force. She went flying through the air towards the stairwell leading down to the offices, crashing into it, reducing it to rubble, and blocking off the only escape route.

"No, but I can," came a determined female voice from above where Illyria had been standing. Willow hovered above the point, magic crackling around her, ionising the air.

"Will!" cried Buffy in delight.

"Hey Buff. I got her as soon as Tokyo and Beijing offices were dust. What's going on?" she asked hurriedly, coming down to Buffy's level.

"Illyria's trying to get back her powers. Will, we can't let-" Buffy was cut off by a violent strike which sent her tumbling to the ground. Illyria was up from the attack, and moving in on Willow. Willow raised her hands and blasted her with dark green streams of magic, which engulfed Illyria. Screams of agony rippled through the night sky as Willow's magic set every nerve in Illyria's body on fire. She fell panting to one knee as soon as Willow stopped. Looking up at Willow, her big blue eyes betrayed fear. She had never felt such a sensation before.

"Don't you know my forte is causing invincible hell-gods agony?" quipped Willow. Illyria took a shallow breath and flicked her head up, fury having replaced fear. Willow fired another stream of magic at Illyria, but Illyria opened a portal in front of her, which sucked the magic in. Try as she might, Willow couldn't direct her magic anywhere else. The blue god stepped out from behind the portal, wincing slightly from residual pain. Willow eyed Illyria carefully. "How?" Illyria grinned smugly.

"This is a gateway to a world that devours magic my it's very nature. Any spell directed at me will now go in there. While you're here, I'll just leave this open. Bitch." In a flash, Illyria had smacked Willow across the face hard enough to draw blood, and sent Willow to the gravel-covered ground.

Angel rushed forward and hit Illyria over the head with his broad sword from behind, snapping it in two, but knocking her over. Before she had a chance to get up, he kicked her in the face with a force that would have removed a vampire's head from its shoulders. Before he could connect with her temple again, she had grabbed his foot and twisted his ankle, earning a sickening crunch and a guttural cry of pain. She then threw him high into the air, watching as he landed far away with a smack. He didn't get up. Turning to face Spike, she adopted a different, less hostile stance.

"Why you doing this, luv?" Spike asked hotly.

"I need my powers back!" Spike shook his head.

"No, blue, what you need is a good thrashing!" he lunged at her, swinging the sword, but she sidestepped and pushed him to the ground. Before he could get up she kicked him in the head, rendering him unconscious. His body went limp, his sword clattering to the ground.

Illyria heard a metallic hum, and ducked just before The Scythe made contact with her head. Turning around, she swiped at Buffy, who dodged. Buffy reacted with double kick to the midsection, followed by a swing of the Holy Weapon, which again missed. Illyria had learned the hard way that The Scythe could harm her, something that disturbed her greatly. They battled, trading blows. Buffy dodged most of them, but if one did connect, she made sure to go along with it, because resisting the force would just hurt more. Jumping over Illyria's head in a somersault, Buffy kicked her from behind. Illyria turned around, only to receive another kick to the face.

Buffy knew her punches and kicks did nothing to phase Illyria, but she was trying to get her with the only weapon that seemed to harm her. It was intense. Buffy had never fought so well before in her life. _"If only Caleb could see me now"_

Unfortunately, that one thought was enough of a distraction for Illyria to get the opening she needed. She punched Buffy solidly in the ribs, breaking untold numbers of them with the force of the strike. Buffy gasped and fell to her knees before the god, dropping The Scythe from the shock, and wrapping her arms around her torso. She couldn't breath at all. It felt like her chest had collapsed. She looked up from the ground, into Illyria's eyes. She'd been defeated, she knew, and with a single punch. She couldn't continue to fight like this, and Illyria was unharmed but for the first wound on her back, which wasn't that serious. Illyria looked down at Buffy with emotionless eyes, becoming lost in the slayers' gaze. Big sis…

"Buffy!" yelled Willow from the ground as she came out of the daze Illyria had put her in. Illyria craned her neck in surprise and Buffy saw an opening. Grabbing The Scythe, she swung it around in a 360-degree motion and struck Illyria in the left side, embedding it in her. Blood erupted from the wound, bathing Buffy's hands in crimson and splattering the ground. Illyria cried out and began to fall to her knees, but before she had a chance to, Buffy withdrew The Scythe and stabbed the sharp end of the blade mightily into Illyria's chest. Driving it through the god's tough skin with some difficulty, she pushed until the metallic blade came out the other side. Blood streamed down the handle and ran down Buffy's arm. Buffy's determined eyes met Illyria's, filled with pain and shock.

Buffy withdrew The Scythe from Illyria's torso with a tug that was painful for both of them, dragging Illyria to her knees. Blood quickly welled up in Illyria's mouth. She coughed and sputtered, spraying more of her life on the ground. Looking up, she gazed forlornly at Buffy, who returned the look with one of pity. Forcing an extremely painful breath, Buffy brought The Scythe into full swing and brought it down on Illyria, intending to cleave her in half.

It never struck.

Illyria caught it in her left hand, her right one desperately clutching her mortal wound. Blood oozed from her palm where she had caught it. Buffy tried to remove the weapon from her grasp, but Illyria held firm. Her arm began to shake, as though she were straining. The muscles in her fingers bulged, and with the sound of a snapping sword, The Scythe's blade shattered into a dozen fragments, clattering to the ground in a shower of metal. Illyria took advantage of Buffy's amazement to sweep the slayers' feet from under her. Getting up, she stumbled over to the stairs, leaving a trail of deep crimson puddles with every step. It wasn't long now, she knew. The world was dimming around her. Reaching the console, she rested her bloody hands on it and concentrated. The great ball of magic began to hum once more. The building started shaking, softly at first, but violently after just a few seconds. The roof collapsed at several points, and then Buffy realised it wasn't just this building shaking; it was the whole city. A skyscraper across the way suddenly began to implode, and the sound of millions of panes of glass breaking bombarded her ears as every building in the city suffered structural damage akin to the result of 9.0 on the Richter scale. Buffy was too badly injured to get to Illyria. The glass ball of magic cracked, and an essence began to leak from it, threading its way through the air until it reached Illyria.

With horror, Buffy watched as Illyria was enveloped in the magic. Her dying shell was lifted into the air, and Winifred Burkles' body began to dissolve. Angel limped over to Buffy, his ankle causing him agony. Spike was regaining consciousness too, and looked on in awe and apprehension. The sky, already dark, became black as oblivion, except for crackles of energy that periodically lit it up.

They could no longer see the shell, but large tentacles began to emerge from a great, blinding light. Huge, bony talons with razor sharp claws materialised, gripping the scaffolding for balance, but finding none, as the poorly assembled steel groaned under her weight and crumpled. Without the scaffolding to support it, the ball fell to the ground and began to roll. Frantic glances thought it would explode then and there, but it came to rest against the concrete barriers along the edges of the roof. Suddenly, the shaking stopped. The sound of destruction subsided, the hum went away, and the light receded. All that was left was the form, thirty feet tall, of Illyria, armour clad, her face hidden within the dark confines of a giant helmet, though tentacles came from there also. At first compact, as if squatting, Illyria seemed to expand as she unfurled her tendrils, revealing an armoured body, and two great arms, the bare muscles straining, the hands skeletal. The beast unleashed a primal scream, unlike anything any of them had ever heard. It was horrible; bone chilling, soul freezing in it ferocity. It was so loud it would be heard all over the deserted city by the few remaining inhabitants, even above the quickly returning rumble of thunder in the sky.

The four on the roof felt a presence unlike anything they'd ever felt before. The hair on their necks stood on end as they looked upon the monstrosity before them. Buffy glanced at Willow, who was readying her magic. Illyria's magic-sucking portal has disappeared the moment Buffy had driven The Scythe through her body, which put the mighty witch back in the game. Willow felt the adrenaline flow through her, knowing this was the most powerful being she had ever laid eyes on. Not even The Senior Partners had felt anything like this…they were powerful, but they'd felt so…choppy. This was pure, raw energy.

Willow was shaking with the power that swirled around her. She was getting closer to the edge, she knew but she had to. Her eyes swirled black as she called forth every reserve she had. She hoped the building wouldn't collapse under the might of her magic, but was ready to teleport Buffy, Spike and Angel away if need be. Just as Willow was about to attack Illyria with enough force to level the whole city, the God cast her a look. Inside the helmet, eyes flashed red, and Willow dropped to the ground, all her magic suddenly gone.

"W-what!?" the witch exclaimed, reeling form the sudden loss of her magic. She didn't know what happened, but she suddenly felt like she were a sophomore again, completely out of tune with the forces of nature.

Throwing her head to the sky, Illyria raised her great talons and began chanting in some ancient demon language. It sounded like a thousand voices chanting in a great temple, echoing for miles around. In the clouds above the city, something began to happen. The crackles of power grew, until the heavens themselves were shining with their energy. The magic converged at one point, forming a huge bulge in the sky, like a drop of water about to gain enough mass to fall from the underside of a leaf.

Suddenly, and with force enough to literally knock the four off their feet, the magic exploded downwards in a mad rush, striking Illyria with enough power to blow the building literally to pieces. In a mighty explosion, the whole office tower exploded outwards in all directions, lethally showering debris across the city. Fragments of the office were flung as far as the hills, though most of it was absorbed by the other skyscrapers nearby, some of which collapsed, some of which merely groaned under the assault.

It was terrifying. Buffy didn't know what was going on. Why wasn't she dead? All she could see was fire and dust, like a veil of death pulled over her eyes. "Angel! Spike! Willow!" she screamed, but the crashing rumble around her was so loud she couldn't even hear herself. She tried to move, wiggling her body, but it did nothing. Was she falling through the air? She wasn't getting the vertigo associated with falling, so she was all out of guesses.

Buffy looked up when she fancied she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Through the fire and smoke, she could see a tunnel of clear air that led up to the sky, and what she saw was more terrifying than anything thing she had ever imagined, though she didn't know why. It was instinctual, something written into the primeval brains of man.

In the sky was a gaping tear, flapping like a shredded sheet in the wind. From within, malevolent eyes looked back, with a fury unlike any other. Moving in the most inhuman way possible, not seeming to use things like friction or muscles, it emerged from the abyss of its own accord, followed by another, and another. They descended on the world like a terrible calamity, leaving in their wake what could only be likened to the destruction of the very essence of reality. As the dust cleared around her, Buffy saw the tear in the sky dissolve and disappear, like it had never been there.

She realised she was now standing on the ground, across the street from where the Wolfram and Hart building had once stood. She frantically looked around, and saw her companions beside her, all standing, and looking just as horrified as Buffy. They'd obviously seen those creatures, and felt the same chill she had.

"What's going on?" Buffy yelled above the howl of what was going on above. There was no wind, no rain, just a terrible sound that would scar their psyches forever.

"It's them!" cried Spike, pointing at the wraith-like figures circling Illyria, who was hovering at the spot where the roof had once stood. "The Senior Partners!" Buffy shot around to look at them. She could barely make them out. They were almost ethereal, seeming to have little substance. Strands of essence billowed behind them, like a tattered coat.

"How'd we get down here anyway?!" Angel wondered aloud. Willow took a step forward, her eyes never leaving the scene above her.

"Illyria saved us," she said just loud enough to be heard, the awe in her voice evident. "It's the only explanation, she's the only one who could have…"

"Illyria?" asked Buffy. "I thought that was you?" Willow shook her head.

"Illyria drained my powers. Buffy, she did it with a look. I've never had so much power at the ready, and she _looked_ at me…and I was defeated."

"So, what, she got her powers back, and now Wolfram and Hart are here to knock her down?" Buffy said. Willow nodded unsurely.

"Looks that way…"

"No, that's not it!" said Angel, coming to the fore. "The partners would never come down to this realm! If they're actually here in their own bodies, then they're mortal! They'd never risk it, especially against Illyria!"

"So you're saying-" trailed off Buffy, looking him intently in the eye. He nodded.

"She dragged them down somehow. She's got her powers back…she's going to destroy them, and then…" He didn't need to finish for the others to know what he was thinking, because they were thinking it too.

"So, should we root for the underdog who wants us all dead, or the overlord who'll enslave us all?" quipped Spike dryly. Buffy shook her head desperately.

"Neither! We'll-"

"We'll what Buffy?" butted in Willow incredulously. "Even if I wasn't dryer than the Sahara, magically speaking, it would be like an ant trying to move a skyscraper! All we can do is…" Willow softened her expression. "Watch." She didn't like, and she knew Buffy sure as hell didn't, but they were helpless in this clash of gods, something Buffy recognised.

"Hey…" said Spike with knit brows. "Where'd that doomsday paperweight go?" The other three looked apprehensive, then spied something twinkling in the sky. Looking up, they saw it, revolving around Illyria like a planet going around the sun. She obviously had some sort of grip on it.

-------

Illyria cast an eye down to the ground to make sure those she had feelings for were ok. Seeing they were, she turned her attention to the vulchers that circled her.

"_Fool. Do you know what you have done?"_ growled The Wolf in her head, its rancid essence assaulting her senses.

Illyria returned a feeling of smugness to it, and to the others. "I destroyed your sanctuary, your "higher plane"," she replied. "Without your refuge, you were forced to come here, forced to assume form."

"_You've done more than that!"_ hissed The Ram_. "We had everything so meticulously planned, and controlled! Without our plane, the cleansing will not work!"_

"Exactly."

"_Fool!"_ rasped The Hart. _"It's control was woven into the higher plane! Without the plane, it will destroy _**all**_ life, not just human and half-breed! We cannot control it from here!"_

"I know." She could feel they were taken aback. After a moment of silence, they spoke as one.

"_You've been to see _**them**," they surmised. Illyria smirked, sensing their unease.

"And they showed me how to wield power more supreme than even they have." She heard them laugh in her mind.

"_No such power exists. The ultimate power is theirs, that which we seek._" Illyria shook her head.

"It does exist, and it was in front of you the whole time, ripe for the taking, but you were too blind to see it." Laughter again. Hideous, taunting laughter. They didn't believe her at all.

"_Then show us this power you speak of,_" they challenged. Illyria flexed her muscles, letting them stew for a moment before continuing.

"I haven't got it just yet." She sensed their amusement. "All I have to do to get it though, is kill all of you!"

"_And you think that will be easy?" _they challenged.

Illyria cupped her huge talons in front of her and generated a ball of magic. It began to grow, becoming larger than a house. When it was reaching critical point, she clapped her hands together, crushing it. This caused it to readjust to cope with the pressure, and it flew out at the three, striking them simultaneously. It locked them in orbs of energy, as if each had been placed in a balloon. They realised their connection to each other had been severed, a feeling they hadn't known for so very long. Unified, they were strong; divided, they were weak.

"Yes I do," Illyria said slowly.

Illyria, with the motion of a finger, brought the three balls into orbit around her. At the same time, she floated the doomsday device into her hands, and began to concentrate. Drawing energy from her captives, and from the power she'd stolen from Willow, she did just as the Powers That Be had told her. Ultimate power was in her hands…she glanced down at Spike and at Buffy…she thought of Wesley, and Dawn, and Roger, and Trish. Steeling her resolve, she put The Key into the proverbial lock, and taking one last look at the world as it was, turned it, opening the doorway to the future.

* * *

Willow, Buffy, Spike and Angel watched the spectacle unfold, each trembling as Illyria effortlessly ensnared the Senior Partners in her prisons. They watched as the old one wrapped her claws around the fantastically glowing orb, and they saw when she tore it open, letting all the magical energy erupt. 

The second it did, a shockwave shot out, spreading in all directions at tremendous speed. Willow felt a surge of energy as her power came rushing back to her. She did not know how or why it returned, but she acted. Milliseconds before the arc of destruction hit them, she threw up a shield. It blocked the tide of death, but hit her so hard she crashed to her knees. Outside, energy still poured forth from where the orb had been, supplying the shockwave as it enveloped the Los Angeles basin, spreading over the hills and rolling over the ocean and the desert. It was eerily silent inside the bubble they were in.

"We failed," whispered a haunted Buffy, a lone tear trailing down her cheek.

"I c-can only hold this for a few more seconds guys…Buffy, I love you," stressed Willow. "You're a good friend."

"You too Will…" Buffy turned to Spike and Angel, desperate to hold them one more time. Without words, she pulled them both into a kiss on the lips. They didn't resist, returning it with fervour. They both wrapped their arms around her, pulling all three of them into a locked embrace. Words weren't needed, as actions said more. For as long as they could, they remained locked in the passionate embrace.

Pulling away reluctantly when the silence lessened, and the howling outside became louder and louder, Buffy gazed at both of them. For one shining moment, they were the only three people in the universe.

Then it struck.

The noise retuned full force, and Angel and Spike were lifted into the air, a great light erupting from them. Buffy was untouched, standing firm on the ground. She locked hands with them, keeping them from floating away. Her hands burned as those of her lovers' caught fire. They shared one last look, and Angel and Spike began to disintegrate.

Buffy watched as the familiar process happened to those she loved dearest. Their skin turned to ash, and fell away from their skeletons, which followed a moment later. The next thing Buffy knew was darkness.

-----------

All was black. Swimming in oblivion, she took solace. From what, she wasn't aware, because thought and memory were not with her. All she knew was she was comfortable and warm, though she felt like a deep hole now lay inside her. Curious sensations passed over her. She slipped into a vivid dream and opened her eyes to see this fairy tale her mind had concocted.

"My loves…" she choked softly in surprise when she saw a pair of faces looking down at her. Above was a bright sunny sky, small whiffs of cloud passing by slowly. A light breeze could be felt, but otherwise all was quiet.

"You're awake!" the blonde one said, eyes full of wonder.

"And I hope to never go back to sleep," she said in a daze. "Because you're both here now, and that's all that matters anymore."

"Buffy, I'm so glad you're back!" came a third, female voice. Buffy snapped out of the haze.

"Willow?" Why would Willow be in her fantasy? Not that she would mind having her friends with her in the afterlife, but she thought the first few moments should be romantic. Buffy sat up, looking around. They were all sitting in a city park. It was deserted save for them and the happily chirping birds. The smell of dust was in the air, testament to the destruction of several buildings. "What's going on? Are we dead?"

"No!" smiled Angel with an almost childlike excitement.

"W-what happened?" she asked, looking around with astonishment. Spike shrugged,

"Dunno. But I think the world was saved somehow." Buffy didn't move for a second, coming to grips with what he had said. As soon as she did, she burst into a sarcastic smile and rolled her eyes.

"Well duh. We're here, aren't we? What else tipped you guys off?" she said with growing mirth.

"I dunno," said Angel off handedly. "Maybe the fact that Spike and I are human now." The smile disappeared from Buffy's face as she looked at them both, the weight of the lightly delivered statement hitting her like a tonne of bricks. She realised that they were both basking in the bright sunlight. "Or sort of, anyway…"

"B-but-h-how?" she stuttered. "Sort of? What?"

"We don't know. The last thing we remember is you holding us as we were raised from the ground. Then we woke up outside Wolfram and Hart. We can still do vampire things, like out-run Olympic sprinters and scale thirty foot walls, but…"

"No weaknesses. We've got reflections, heartbeats. It's plain abnormal!" said Spike.

"We moved you and Willow here because it's nicer. She woke up about an hour ago, and now…" explained Angel. Buffy threw herself at Angel, knocking him over, clutching him in a powerful embrace, and grabbing Spike on the way down for good measure.

"Bloody hell! Watch it Slayer. Me 'an Peaches nearly knocked heads!"

"Sorry! I'm just…wow! I haven't got words…" she began to tear up. "Look at me! I just…this is all too much!" The two ex-demons-but-still-vampires pushed themselves up from the ground, Buffy still firmly attached to them both "I love you."

"Love you too," they both echoed. Buffy cupped their faces with her hands and leaned closer, stopping when a polite cough interrupted them.

"Umm, I'm still here you know," said Willow wryly. "And we need to be going. We've gotta find out what happened." Sighing, Buffy detached herself from Angel and Spike.

"Your right," she said, standing up. She offered a hand to the former vampires and helped them up.

"Ready to teleport?" Taking one last look around at the partially ruined city, they nodded. Willow waved her hand and they vanished.

* * *

Well, truly my masterpiece! The jewel in the crown for my fics. And unlike my other ones, I actually finished it, AND stuck with the original plan, albeit with major (positive) additions. Many thanks to the two hundred or so people who have read to the latest chapter, and even more to those who have reviewed. Like it? Thought something was missing? Tell me, because the Epilouge is still to come. I've already written it and will post it around Christmas day (my present to my readers). It'll contain the answers to all those unanswered question, but make sure to ask me them anyway in case I miss some. Please bring up any plot holes I may have missed so I can address them. Hope you enjoyed! 


	14. Epilouge

**Epilogue**

Of course, we did find out what happened, eventually. By eventually, I mean by a vision from The Powers a few hours later; the longest, most painful vision of my life, but thankfully the last one anybody will ever receive, according to them. We learned about Illyria's visit to them…and about what she did. Why she did it…we can only speculate.

She always sought power…and she got it. For one, shining moment, she became more powerful than any being had ever been. Using the essence of The Wolf, The Ram and The Hart, she modified their ultimate end. The shockwave of their doomsday rolled across the world, through the sky, along the ground, and into the very core of the earth. Travelling at the speed of sound, it covered the globe. Those who saw it coming, human and demon alike, ran in terror at its approach. In it's path it left only those beings of good. Vampires, pure demons, and evil demons: all of them, dust.

Her too.

Illyria selflessly sacrificed herself to wipe these beings from the face of the Earth, taking the Senior Partners with her. After all, what being has more power than that which can end every apocalypse in one fell swoop? What could immortalise you more than ending an age, and initiating a new one? What is grander than giving the gift of life to countless billions, most of them yet to be born?

But…she did more than that. She sealed this world from the other ones. All possible gateways were smashed. Never again will the Earth be menaced by demons from other dimensions. This place is now a shining citadel in a sea of darkness, safe for all eternity. How? The details are complicated, but the long and the short of it is she integrated the Key into the fabric of reality, sealing it, much like welding a steel door shut.

How did she discern evil from good? She didn't; the Partners did. They were keenly aware of which beings were evil, and she used this awareness to home in on them. The Partners were fuel for the fire, so to speak. What ultimate irony that their own master plan would be their final undoing.

Why didn't she just tell us, instead of fighting? Her plan would only work before the bomb got too much energy, lest even she be unable to control it, and it was near the critical point. Besides, the powers pointed out, would we have believed her when she said she was going to save the world, even though everything we thought she wanted was right in front of her? No. She knew that, and she acted accordingly.

How did she destroy an entire dimension? She used the energy of the doomsday device to destroy the higher plane where The Partners resided, forcing them to assume mortal form. They were taken totally by surprise, all their pillars of support stripped, leaving them with only their very finite, body-bound powers.

As for the war…well, it hasn't stopped, but it is dying down. With the forces of darkness forever silenced, the flames have stopped being fanned. A lot needs to be done to rebuild. Lives have been lost, cities and nations have been destroyed, but mankind is at the dawn of a new, golden age. The only foe left to deal with is his own capacity for evil, but that is a different type of battle.

The Shanshu is a strange one. It had to be fulfilled, but how? It specified the vampire with a soul would become human. Neither Spike nor I is strictly human, but neither are we vampires any more. We have all the strengths and none of the weakness now. We can enjoy food, but we still like blood. Apparently what happened is that both Spike and I had equal points on the champion scale, and the Shanshu "tried" to fulfil us both. This wasn't possible, so it naturally readjusted itself via some bizarre magical law I don't really understand. It treated the term "Vampire" as plural, and "restored" us as well as it could with its divided energy. It's all very complicated, but the bottom line is, we're humans with benefits.

What about Buffy, Spike and I? Well…

Our job is done.

The End.


End file.
